Rough Landings
by Writer With Sprite
Summary: The Hood is back for revenge on the Tracy brothers, specifically Alan. How will Alan react when the Hood decides he wants to make Alan his child? And what happens when Scott gets in his way?
1. Words From A Brother

_A/N: Here is chapter one of Rough Landings. There will be plenty of Alan "whump" in this fic, as well as some whump for the other characters, too. If you like it, please read and review. This is an updated version of the original chapter one. The main difference is simply spelling and grammar, although I added a few extra sentences, too. _

* * *

><p><em>Stop. Rewind. Hit Play.<em>

Alan Tracy sobbed as he hugged his pillow. Tears fell freely from his expressive blue eyes. He felt like he was going to die. He'd been back from spring break for twenty-four hours, but already it seemed like no-one in his family wanted him. Why did he have to be born?

Why wasn't he wanted?

Why couldn't he just be loved, accepted, and cared for?

More importantly, why did Gordon suddenly hate him? Although Gordon and Virgil had always teased him before – in fact, their teasing was nothing new – they'd never been this bad, nor this mean. Gordon was 20, and Virgil was 22; weren't they grown-up enough not to make fun of their younger brother until he cried?

Apparently not; they had said some things that had sent Alan just reeling…

Alan longed for John to be there. While John might ignore Alan, he never just teased him endlessly.

_And he never said that Alan was the family mistake!_

## flashback ##

_"Whoa, sprout, take it easy. You don't want to work too much, now do you?" Gordon taunted upon seeing Alan's entrance into the room._

_"W-what?" Alan asked, wondering why his brother was suddenly up in arms against him. _

_"Yeah, you got to miss all the fun of cleaning the 'birds cause you were at school," Virgil said. He grinned back at Gordon. Seeing how quickly they could wind up Alan was their favorite past-time. It didn't make them sound very mature, but as long as no-one was around, who the hell cared? _

_"I had finals..." Alan said, glancing at the floor. He was proud of himself; straight A's, even in math. And now John was coming home for the weekend! He could finally say "thank you" to John. He had been accepted to the track team, and was in position to win the valedictorian slot - of course, that wouldn't be decided for another two years, but hey! So to come home and find that his brothers were still teasing him like a little kid..._

_"Finals, finals. Bet you blew them off like you did last time, huh? Dad pays what, thirty thousand dollars a year to send you to school, Alan? Can't you do better than that?" Gordon teased as he grinned at Virgil. It was his brother's turn._

_"Yeah, Alan. That's more than some people charge for __**college,**__" Virgil responded with a sneer. _

_"But I..." Alan started to say before he realized it would be no use. He sighed as he looked at the carpet floor. What he wouldn't give to be adopted... even if it meant that he wasn't rich. Then he wouldn't have four younger brothers, he wouldn't have been the son of so-and-so's family, and he certainly wouldn't have to deal with Gordon Tracy and Virgil Tracy._

_Oh, he hated them._

_"Oh, we found something else out when you were gone," Gordon said once Virgil had left the room. Alan met his brother's eyes, and he was terrified, even though he didn't know why. "You were a mistake. I mean, come on, think about it. You're five years younger than me. You really think dad wants you? You should just disappear and save us all a lot of trouble." Gordon swallowed hard after he said that, like he didn't really mean it. If Alan had thought to look, he would have seen Gordon touch his head as if he was in pain. _

_Mistake? Alan thought, a knife piercing to his heart. He remembered the bullying at school he'd had to deal with for the last term and sighed. So much for him getting a break here._

_"Gordon, stop bothering Alan," Scott said as he came into the room. "I'm sure Dad'll give him enough grief over his report cards, so you don't have to... Alan, you can just go to your room until dinner, if you want." _

_"Why?" Alan demanded. He swallowed hard. "Getting rid of me already?"_

_Scott just left the room, having not heard his brother's comments. Gordon smirked before following his older brother's lead._

_## end flashback ## _

_They hate me!_ Alan thought as he swallowed hard. He couldn't believe the harsh words that had come out of Gordon's mouth. Or that Scott was just brushing him off. Or that Virgil was openly mocking him. And his father, who had said he was going to pick him up, couldn't even bother to show up but had instead chartered Scott to do it.

_"If you get good grades, I'll come down." _

Yeah, right! Alan sighed. He'd really pushed himself hard this semester. While he usually got mostly A's and mostly one B, he'd gotten all "A'S" since his father said that he should improve. Had his father even looked at his report cards since middle school? _No, _he thought with a sigh, _probably not_.

He sighed as he drifted off to sleep, not even bothering to dry his tears.

* * *

><p>Alan felt sick to his stomach as he made his way into the kitchen. He knew it was past breakfast time. He didn't care. He didn't bother to show up for breakfast, knowing that Gordon and Virgil - and probably Saint Scott - would be there. He figured if he was lucky, he could grab a bite to eat. He sighed upon seeing Gordon in the kitchen, and ducked out.<p>

_So what if he starved? He would be going back to Wharton's in a few days if his father had anything to say about it. _Alan was startled by the sound of John arriving from the Thunderbird 5. He could always tell when his brother flew. His face light up as he thought about John. Even though Scott was the one that raised him, John was the one that had always done right by him.

He sighed as he made his way back to his room. Even if John _was_ excited to see him, it would be awhile before he would. No doubt his other two brothers would just tie him up. Alan sighed as he heard his father welcome John home with a hearty laugh.

Alan heard Gordon's voice all over again:

_You're a mistake... Nobody wants you... Just get over it. _

Swallowing hard, Alan Tracy opened one of his college textbooks and began to read. Maybe when he was eighteen, he could change his name and get a college scholarship. They were out there, right? He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. He'd never be a Thunderbird now. Sure, Brains could be one; other people could be one, but not him.

Because _he, _AlanTracy, was the family mistake that never should have existed; that never should have been born. Alan swallowed hard, not liking the thoughts that came to mind.

He just forced Gordon's tormenting comment out of his mind and opened the astronomy textbook... Ironically written by his brother, John, the only one who he felt really cared about him right now.

Alan Tracy cried himself to sleep that night.

* * *

><p>The Hood smiled as he sat in his chair. He was having fun seeing what he could make different people think. It was startlingly easy to take advantage of the thoughts that were already in the minds of the Tracy family. He smirked, knowing that Jeff never would know what hit him. Soon, very soon, he would be able to take Alan from Jeff Tracy's fingers. International Rescue <em>would be stopped<em>. It had to be stopped. It was ruining all the fun for criminals like him, and more importantly, it was running his plans. It had already ruined his plans.

The Hood smiled. With the foolproof plan he put together with his wife, the Tracy family was toast, and Alan's relationship with his family would be a thing of the past... and the Tracy family would know the feeling off loss when he brutally murdered their son after holding him captive for four years.

At least those were the plans...

* * *

><p><em>AN: If you liked it and would like more, please review! _


	2. A Headache Worth Mentioning

Alan finally managed to snag some lunch, with Onaha, the family's housekeeper, agreeing to let him eat in his room. She had smiled at him sympathetically, and tried to ask what was wrong, but he'd just shrugged her off. He couldn't help it. She couldn't know that he was the family mistake, because then he'd be treated differently by her, too.

_He was the family mistake…_

… _that was why Jeff couldn't look at him… … why Scott had practically raised him those years after his mother died… _

Alan had to actively swallow the lump in his throat before he could move.

A long afternoon of thinking had made Alan determined on the "right" approach to take. If his family didn't want him, he would just be absent from their lives. Well, as much as he physically could. What with attending Wharton's full time, it wouldn't be difficult.

That was another scenario that Alan didn't want to discuss.

It was late afternoon when he was finally called into his father's study. "Hi, sir," Alan said anxiously as he bowed his head. He swallowed hard as he placed the report card in front of Jeff.

Jeff waved a dismissive hand. "I've already seen it," he said with a tired sigh. Well, he'd barely glanced at it, but that didn't matter. "Really, Alan, you just had to start trouble this term!"

"Trouble?" Alan asked as his jaw dropped. What was his father talking about? For once, he hadn't done anything wrong. Or so he thought, clearly his father had thought otherwise. What had he done wrong? Alan scratched his head, trying to think about what on earth he could have done wrong. _Maybe he's telling me finally that it's my existence that is the problem, _Alan thought, swallowing visibly.

"Yes. I can't believe that you got into an argument with the principal. I thought you'd left this immaturity behind you!" Jeff said. He placed his hands on the brown desk, trying to calm his temper before he looked at his son. He couldn't explain this sudden burst of anger that he was feeling towards his youngest.

"But dad-," Alan started to say, but was abruptly cut off. He tried not to look too put-off by his father's comments.

"No buts, Alan. Look, just go to your room. You've got a month here for Christmas break, and then another week home because the school is undergoing some renovations. I hope you use that time to take your studies seriously," Jeff said. He hadn't glanced at his son's report card, but he hadn't needed too; it was probably the same grades as usual.

"Will you listen to me?" Alan asked, his mouth agape. "Dad, the argument with the principal – it wasn't an argument! Didn't he tell you what it was about? We were just joking…," he said, hanging his head as he realized that it was probably no use talking to his father about it. Apparently his father had his mind made up. Alan closed his eyes, wondering where he would be

"I doubt very much the principal would be joking with one of his students in that manner," Jeff responded. He sighed as he checked his watch. The dismissive motion made Alan feel unwanted all over again. It took all of Alan's control not to let tears drip down his face. It was true! It was!

_Flashback_

"_Now, Alan, I just wanted to say that I'm very impressed with your grades this term, son. I wanted to let you know that you've qualified for both the swim team and the track team," the principal said. He had a smile on his face that showed off his white teeth. For some reason, for a second all Alan could think about was that he should've been on a television commercial for the toothbrush factory, or something. _

_Alan smiled back at his principal after finally realizing what the principal had said. The fact that the man spent one on one time with the kids in his school had really helped Alan the previous term. He'd listened to Alan's complaints and gotten Alan the help that he needed; far more so than what his father had done. "That being said, if you want to try for either one, you might consider spending a little less time at the snack bar," the principal added with a teasing smile. To anyone else, it might have come across as a reprimand, but Alan knew the principal better. _

"_Aw, come on, coach. You know half the time half of us don't buy anything anyway," Alan said. Despite being some of the sons of the richest men on the planet, Alan and his friends tried to be money-conscious. Well, the key phrase was "tried." _

"_Really?" the principal said, smiling at Alan, even though he knew full well. "Well, congratulations. You've made both of the teams. Well done."_

"_Thank you, Sir," Alan said as he shook the man's hand. He was grateful that the man had went to such an extent to help him. _

"_You're welcome," the principal responded, waiting until Alan was almost out the door for his final comment. "Oh, and Alan?" _

"_Yes, sir?" Alan asked, turning around._

"_Thank you for not blowing up my school." _

_Alan's laughter could be heard throughout the hallway. _

_## end flashback ##_

That was so not an argument! For his father to constitute it at that made Alan's blood boil. Alan sighed as he bowed his head to the floor, waiting for his father to speak. "John said he would be happy to tutor you in any area that you needed assistance. When you get back to school, I want you to stay out of trouble. Are we clear?" Jeff said. He scratched his head. Man, maybe he shouldn't have had that extra cup of coffee; his head felt like it hurt a ton.

"Yes sir, but I think –," Alan said. He stopped and swallowed hard, trying to keep from crying. The last thing he wanted to do was look like even more of a mistake in front of his father.

His father cut him off. Jeff had dealt with a very pressing migraine all week and was sick to his stomach. He was tired of the thoughts that had been constantly running through his head. He sighed as he sunk down to his chair. "Okay, Alan," he said tiredly, "go ahead."

"Sir… the principal and I, it was a joking argument. I don't know what you heard… but it wasn't anything bad. He was j-just telling me to s-stay out of the snack shop, since I made both swim team and track team."

Jeff sighed as he thought about it. He guessed it would make sense. One of the reasons he'd sent Alan to Wharton's, after all, was because he liked the comfort and security that he could provide for Alan there, and that the principal really took pride in caring for the teenagers as if they were his own.

He sighed as he opened Alan's report card and really looked at it. All A's. A shining mirror of perfection. Even an "A" in math. He smiled, looking at his youngest son. "Good job, son." He sighed. "I'm sorry for not listening to you before. It's just been a very stressful day, and a stressful week. But I _do_ owe you for not picking you up from school before. You decide what you want to do, and we'll do it."

Alan thought about this. "What if it's a trip with you to Disney World?"

"I was actually thinking about taking up stock in that. It would be a great way to get to see what I'd be buying," Jeff said as he rumpled his youngest boy's hair. "Is there something that's bothering you, son?" he asked.

_You mean about how Gordon wants to kill me?_Alan thought with a tired sigh. "No, sir," he said.

Jeff knew his youngest son was lying, or at least felt like he was, but he didn't want to push the envelope. "Alright, Alan, but if you need anything, you talk to me. And if you can't talk to me, talk to Scott or John, okay?"

Alan just nodded and numbly steered himself from the room.

* * *

><p>Scott sighed as he sat on the deck with John. Although he was closer to Virgil, the painter and musician had made him very angry today with some of his statements about Alan. "Tell me what's upsetting you, Scott," John said as he shifted his position to avoid knocking his Coke can off of the banister. He hit it anyway and grabbed it, his hand catching.<p>

"You and your caffeine," Scott responded with a shake of his head. "Virgil, and Gordon. Did you notice how they're treating Alan lately?"

"How can you _not_ notice?" John said through clenched teeth. "As if the kid wasn't hurt enough over Spring Break with the Hood. Now, it's this all over again. And what the _hell_ did Gordon say at dinner?" he demanded.

Scott just shook his head in grim response. He couldn't believe the nerve of his younger brother. Gordon had been a handful to help raise, but even when they were younger, the redhead had never said anything so intentionally cruel to Alan. "I can't believe he said that. I don't care how moody he is, it's not like Gordon. _'Alan should do all the housework for free…'__I'm not even going to repeat what he said after that._ Where did that come from? That's not even _like_ Gordon!"

John nodded before changing the subject slightly. "Speaking of Spring Break, loss of life and unusual behavior, Lady P. called me this afternoon. She said she wanted us to know that the Hood was still locked up, but that he was scheduled to be moved prison facilities soon to somewhere with a stronger guard… So I guess that's good news; hopefully we can expect no more loss of life on his end."

"I'll give him loss of life," Scott muttered. "Well, we need to have a talk with Gordon. He had Alan almost ready to run from the table in tears."

"_I_would have run from the table in tears," John muttered. He pushed himself up. "I'm going to go talk to Sprout. It's nice for Brains and Fermat to take a rotation on five so that I can be here with you guys."

Scott nodded, relieved. "I have the feeling that we're going to need you now, more than ever."

"Yeah," John responded. He sighed. "I was hoping things would get better after Spring Break, but now I'm just not sure."

The brothers froze when they suddenly heard a scream. _Alan!_

* * *

><p>"Don't touch me!" Alan said, fighting back against Gordon even as the older teenager made a motion to throw him into the pool again. Alan had been dressed in his American Eagle outfit, ready to go to bed for the evening, when Gordon had thrown him into the pool in an attempt to "play" with him. He wasn't sure Gordon's attempt was actually friendly, and had climbed right out.<p>

"Come on, Alan," Gordon responded with a grin. It was not a happy grin, it was more like a sinister grin. Scott ignored it. "I just want to play in the pool with someone."

"Hey!" Scott said, seeing Gordon tugging on Alan's arm. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

"I just wanted Alan to go swimming!" Gordon said with a pouty face. "I thought he wanted to play with me," he added at the look on Scott's face.

"I didn't want to go swimming!" Alan responded as he tugged against Gordon. Scott grabbed Gordon's arm and separated the two of them quickly.

Gordon scowled. "I thought restraints were only supposed to be done after all other interventions had failed," he said.

It was then when John looked at Gordon. Gordon looked absolutely exhausted, and his eyes sagged. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't tell what. "Okay, Gordon," he said, putting his arm on his second-youngest brother, "Scott, why don't you and Alan go do something constructive, and Gordon and I will chat."

Scott, catching the meaning behind John's words, just nodded and left the room, his youngest brother in tow.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong, Gordon?" John asked. They were making their way to the infirmary, where he planned on having Virgil giving Gordon a through look-over later.<p>

"I don't feel so good," Gordon responded. He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry for being mean to Alan, John, really! I just… I just feel like I can't control anything I say or do, and I don't feel good, and…"

"It's okay," John responded, growing concerned. Out of all of the brothers, Gordon was the least likely to be emotional.

Well, unless the "emotion" was laughter after one of his pranks. But still…

"I really just feel like I'm going to be sick," Gordon responded. It was when he got to the infirmary and leaned over the waste bucket that John knew something was behind the picture, other than just Gordon teasing Alan excessively.

There was just one pressing question that remained: What?


	3. No Takeoff, Please

A/N: Well, hopefully this starts to answer some questions...

## break ##

It was later that night when Virgil woke up Scott by shaking his shoulders non-to-gently. "I think something's really wrong," he responded as he watched the twenty-four-year-old attempt to process the information. He hated waking up Scott at night, because inasmuch as Alan hero-worshiped him, he could be a real pain in the ass at night.

"What?" Scott asked sleepily as he blinked his eyes in an attempt to process the information. Virgil would have snickered if the situation wasn't so dire. This was exactly why he avoided waking Scott up at all costs.

Actually, waking Scott up had become so complicated, that his father had made sure one of Scott's sixteenth birthday presents was an alarm clock he _couldn't _break.

"Gordon. Something. Wrong," Virgil responded, trying not to torment Scott too much. After all, _he_ hadn't spent the last half hour watching his younger brother puke his guts out.

Luckily, _that _Scott seemed to process. He bolted out of bed, pulling on his jeans and then a corresponding T-shirt. Virgil smirked at the fact that his brother's nightshirt screamed Pepsi. He'd have to write something on the Internet about that, really; all of Commander Scott's fans swore he was a Coke fan. Hmm. This was tempting… But then again, the Coke company would be so disappointed.

Guess they were doing a good job of keeping who they were secret.

Which was good for times right now. Speaking of which… He exhaled slowly. Someone still needed to be here for International Rescue – but Gordon was clearly sick, and Virgil wasn't taking chances.

"What's wrong with Gordon?" Scott asked as he pressed his way through the dark corridor, using language that would have made their father blush as they rounded the hall and Scott stubbed his toe. Despite the fact that they'd lived here for many years, Scott obviously hadn't learned his way around the corridor.

"Don't know," Virgil responded with a tired sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. "That's why I want to get him checked out. Scott, he spent the last half hour puking his guts out. Something's wrong."

A frown crossed Scott's face. "That's not good," he muttered with the shake of his head.

"No duh, Sherlock. I don't know what to do – I really don't want to wake up Dad, and I don't want to take Gordon to the island by myself," Virgil said as he checked his watch. It was 2:10 A.M. in the morning.

"What's going on, Scott?" Alan asked, coming out of his room and turning on the light, making the previously dark corridor now visible. Virgil smirked as he clearly saw John's laundry in the laundry room. Ohana would have her hands full, that was for sure. Although Jeff tried to treat his employees well, they always insisted on going above and beyond for their job. Despite that Ohana and Kyrano mostly handled cooking, they still did the other needed jobs around the house. Their salaries rivaled some professional teachers with PHDs.

"Gordon's sick," Scott responded, his voice laced with concern. He understood Virgil completely. On one hand, Gordon needed to go to a hospital. On another hand, there was International Rescue to think about. They couldn't risk anyone finding out who they were.

The trio made their way closer to the infirmary, pressing towards the door. Gordon could be heard throwing up again.

_Screw International Rescue_, Scott thought. When it boiled down to it, no matter how they treated each other, they were a family. He was the commander in charge of the team, and his team was now in trouble. He exhaled slowly, thinking quietly. "Alright," he said finally. "Alan, how do you feel about a trip to mainland?"

"A trip?" Alan asked, not catching on. It was clear that he was tired.

"Why don't you go with Gordon and I to mainland?" Normally, he would have asked Virgil to go – Virgil was a doctor and would understand the medical mumbo jumbo best – but to be honest, Virgil hadn't exactly been Alan's best friend lately. He could take Alan with him and not worry as much as if John or Virgil was with him. John and Virgil had both handled solo rescues before, and there was always his father.

Although, at the moment, he thought it best to let his father lie around in bed. He hadn't exactly gotten a lot of sleep the previous night. Scott yawned. He hated being the oldest sometimes.

"Okay," Alan said with a shrug. "I'll go get my shoes."

Scott glanced at Virgil after Alan left the room. "How bad?" Scott asked, gesturing towards the room.

"I don't know. But I don't know what's causing it, and I'd feel much better with a hospital close buy," Virgil grumbled. He paused. "He could be having symptoms of appendicitis, and I don't really have the ability to check that out on hand. That goes beyond the scope of my medical training. But I will say this – and don't worry, Scott, John is powering up Tracy One – I figured we'd need someone to take him. Gordon's symptoms are abdominal pain, he's not hungry and he barely touched dinner; so check one up for lack of appetite… anyway, I've written them all down, the one that really got to me was the fever."

"Wonderful," Scott muttered. Alan came back with his shoes. "Alright. Just let Dad know where I've gone."

"Will do. As soon as he's had about three cups of coffee," Virgil responded cheerfully.

Scott smacked his brother playfully. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Virgil looked uncomfortable upon noticing Alan. "Sorry for what I said earlier, Sprout. I didn't mean it quite the way I said it."

Alan looked surprised. Normally, when his brothers teased him, they never bothered to apologize. "Thanks," he said as he slipped on his sneakers.

John came back into the corridor. "Tracy One is ready to go," he responded as he glanced at Alan. "Who's going?"

"Scott and Alan," Virgil responded. At John's look, he added, "Yeah, Gordon's going too. I thought, being the brilliant scientist you are, you would know that."

"Hey, even brilliant scientists need sleep at three o'clock A.M.," John retorted as he rolled his eyes and ruffled his younger brother's hair. "Thanks, Scott. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Hey, I've been looking out for you guys since Alan was in diapers," Scott said. John smirked because he knew exactly what Scott meant. "I think I can manage a trip to the hospital." He didn't speak the rest of what he wanted to say: _I'd much rather be appendicitis than the Hydrofoil accident._

"Great," John responded as he helped Scott get Gordon ready to be transported to the mainland.

## break ##

Alan sat in the passenger seat of Tracy one. Gordon had fallen into an uneasy sleep. Scott had already called the hospital in New York to let them know that they would be landing soon. The woman, who had known Scott all too well, had just responded, "I'll get it cleared."

Scott liked Anastasia – she was an excellent hospital worker, and she knew his family all too well. She was one of the select few at the hospital who knew about International Rescue.

Too bad she was spoken for.

"Are you okay, Alan?" Scott asked as he watched his younger brother. He knew it was three o'clock in the morning, but normally his youngest brother would be excited over a trip like this.

"Is Gordon going to die?" Alan suddenly blurted out.

"What?" Scott asked, his mouth agape. This wasn't like Alan. He wasn't scared, or clingy, or... well, never mind. "No, Alan. Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Okay," Alan responded, suddenly reassured. It was then when they touched down, and the action started. Scott's cell phone rang, and he shoved it at Alan, saying, "Answer it and meet me at the cafeteria!"

Alan sighed and picked up the phone, answering, "Alan Tracy."

"Alan?" Virgil's worried voice came over the phone. "Why are you picking up Scott's phone?"

"Just tell me what's wrong, Virgil," Alan said tiredly.

"It's the Hood, Alan," Virgil finally said. His voice sounded flat. "He escaped."

"Okay," Alan responded, his voice shaky. He had to go inside and sit down, and maybe get something to drink like Scott suggested. "I'll go get Scott, and..."

"No, no, no you won't," the Hood said, his voice cold. Alan swallowed hard as he turned around, his mouth open. How had the Hood made his way here? How was he on hospital grounds without anyone seeing? Alan mentally snorted. Everyone was so busy wrapped up caring for everyone else. But there were more pressing matters.

"Virgil!" Alan said as he took off, screaming into his cell phone. "Tell Dad the Hood is at the hos-"

"Tsk, tsk, little Alan," the Hood said, taking Alan's out of his hand with a mere thought. He grabbed it and stepped on it, crushing it with his foot, ignoring Virgil's screams. "Listen to me very carefully. Gordon is sick, but part of it is controlled by me. I can make him get better quick or I can make him get worse. I can kill your family, and I can destroy the hospital. Or you can come with me. What do you want to do?" he asked. His eyes glittered dangerously. "Or, I can do all that and take you by force," he added, lifting up his shirt to reveal his weapon. "So, Alan... what's your choice?"

## break ##

Oh, yes, the true whump is just beginning...

Challenge: What will be Alan's "choice?"


	4. Missing With Action

Alan was exhausted. He couldn't think straight. He did not in any way, shape, or form want to go with the Hood. But it looked as though he had no choice. Alan hung his head; he felt like someone had taken him and physically punched him in the gut. Swallowing dry saliva, Alan opened his eyes, only to find the Hood standing there, waiting. It was obvious he expected nothing to stand in his path from taking Alan.

But… he closed his eyes, trying to stop the world from completely spinning. He hated making rushed choices. Didn't the psychologists say anyway that they weren't supposed to make rushed choices, because bad things could happen? Alan swallowed hard as he opened his eyes. Alan knew he should've grabbed some caffeine before he left. He was exhausted, and somehow he knew he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight, either, especially with the Hood in the picture.

"Alan!" Scott said, trying frantically to cross the distance between the brothers to catch up to his younger brother, sensing the danger instantly.. His 6'5 frame surpassed Alan's, and he quickly made his way to his brother. But before he could even attempt to get close, the Hood had grabbed Alan. His arm wrapped tightly around his neck and he grinned wildly at Scott, leering wildly.

"Do you want to come too?" the Hood responded with a sneer, his grin open wide. "I could have two Tracy brothers for the price of one. Gordon is suffering from something, I know that much. I don't know how much of it's not me." He smirked. He knew exactly how much was from him and exactly how much was the appendicitis. He knew he was making the situation worse.

"I'll kill you for even _looking _at my brother funny," Scott growled. The Hood just smirked and moved his gun a little closer to Alan's head, ignoring the pained look on Scott's face. Scott couldn't do anything when he was under the Hood's control.

"Tell you what, Scott," the Hood responded. He knew a deal when he saw one. Two Tracy brothers for the price of one! Originally, the Hood had planned to get Gordon and Alan, as he didn't like Scott's over-protective nature. He thought that it might get in the way of his plans for Alan. But now, Gordon was in the hospital and Scott was here, and he had the perfect way to make Scott listen. Scott wouldn' t do anything with Alan's life at stake. "You come with me, and I'll let both Alan and Gordon live – for now. I'll even let Alan go."

Scott sighed as he hung his head. What choice did he have? There **was** no choice. "Okay," he responded, closing his eyes tightly.

"Don't do it, Scott!" Alan responded, worried about where the Hood was going with this. Even if he didn't want the Hood to kidnap him, he didn't want his brother to be sacrificed for his sake. "Please, Scott, don't do it!" he said.

"Get in the car, Scott," the Hood responded, clamping his hand firmly over Alan's mouth. He smirked. It was never his intent to let Alan go. Now he had another Tracy brother he could hold hostage. He hadn't seen this brother when he'd stormed the island, but he looked like he would be fairly easy to control. So much for the thought that Scott would have just pushed him away earlier and been hard to control! Right now, he was being easier than Alan. "Or I'll kill Alan right now."

Scott swallowed hard as he approached the car. He touched the door handle, and then looked at the Hood, as if waiting for a command. "In the backseat," the Hood nodded. He frowned. "Sit on your hands," he responded.

Swallowing hard, Scott did as he was told.

Alan closed his eyes. He had known that the Hood would never let him go – after all, the Hood wanted personal revenge on Alan. In a way, he was relieved that Scott was with him, and he was also terrified that Scott was with him…

…. Those were Alan's last thoughts before he was knocked unconscious and shoved roughly into the trunk. The Hood grinned wickedly as he tied the unconscious hands behind Alan's hands back.

His fun was really about to start. He knew Alan, and he had plans for him, but he didn't know the other Tracy brother.

Well, this promised to be interesting…

Virgil was worried. Actually, scratch that. Virgil was beyond worried. He really envied Gordon in these situations. Gordon could just go do laps at the pool and be fine; Scott could run and be fine… Virgil's coping mechanism was to grab a can of caffeine – any kind, he really didn't have the Pepsi verses Coke battle that Scott and John did. (It really was a good thing his father kept both kinds on the island, and it was well known both boys had taken off in their jets to go get the kind of soda they'd desired instead of drinking the other kind of soda). After grabbing his caffeine, he'd go and play the piano.

But there was no time for that now. He'd heard the Hood's crackling voice, he'd heard Alan's screams, and then he'd heard nothing more. And there was still why Scott had let Alan answer his phone in the first place. Even if Alan had told him, and he probably had, Virgil had completely forgotten it.

Good thing they recorded all phone calls in the lab. Virgil sighed. At least they had a starting point – the boys had made it to the hospital. And they knew who had kidnapped Alan. But somehow, that made it even more unsettling. The Hood was dangerous and he would have no problems hurting Alan. The thought made him sick to his stomach

Virgil shuddered. In some ways, he would have preferred a stranger kidnapping Alan. Actually, technically, he would have been happiest if nobody harmed his younger brother, but the Hood had decided to attack Alan and not give him a choice in the matter.

John came into the lab. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking at his younger brother with noted concern. "You look like you just lost your best friend."

Virgil swallowed hard, a dry lump in his throat. Although he and Scott were pretty close, he knew he hadn't treated Alan well lately. Tears swelled up in his eyes. Would he ever get a chance to make it up to his little brother?

Becoming instantly alarmed, John strode across the room with ease, his black shoes clinking on the floor. "Virgil?" he said. He knew something was seriously wrong. "Virgil, what's wrong? Should I get Dad? Is it Gordon, or did something happen, or…"

"Alan," Virgil choked out, tears running down his face. He could no longer keep his emotions or his worry contained. "A-Alan g-got… T-The H-H... H-H-ood…"

John understood instantly. The meaning of what Virgil was saying hit him with full force. He was glad he'd already awoken his father. As soon as the Hood had escaped, Virgil and John had divided tasks. Virgil had notified Brains and Fermat in Five – they were currently coming back down to earth and five was going on auto. Lady Penelope, who had notified them, was already on her way with Parker.

Virgil had been the one elected to call Scott. He hadn't suspected that he would hear Alan's voice on the phone. He'd heard the phone crunch. He'd heard his brother's screams.

_Oh, God, he'd heard his brother scream…_

"What happened, Virgil?" John's face looked like it had aged ten years within a single instant. He took off the Muppet that he had been wearing to hide his matted hair. Ironically, it had been a gift Alan had given him for his eighteenth birthday. He'd taken it with him to school and still had it all these years later. He sank down into the chair.

Virgil just wordlessly pressed play on the machine, not even noticing when their father walked in.

_"Alan Tracy."_

_"Alan?" Virgil's worried voice came over the phone. "Why are you picking up Scott's phone?"_

_"Just tell me what's wrong, Virgil."_

_"It's the Hood, Alan," Virgil finally said. "He escaped."_

_"Okay," Alan responded, his voice shaky. "I'll go get Scott, and..."_

_"No, no, no you won't," the Hood's voice responded._

_"Virgil!" Alan said, screaming into the cell phone. "Tell Dad the Hood is at the hos-"_

_"Tsk, tsk, little Alan," they heard the Hood's voice say._

_And with that, the phone was cut off, complete with Alan's screams._

Jeff Tracy was exhausted. He had not been happy to wake up at 4:50 in the morning to hear that the Hood had escaped from prison. He had yelled at John, shouting at him for waking him up. He had been embarrassed at that, but lately, it felt like he couldn't control his actions, no matter what he did. "Alan," he said, sinking into his chair. It looked like John had just heard the news as well.

"That was Scott's phone," Virgil responded grimly. "We have no way to know if Scott is in danger or not, too."

"Remind me again why they were gone this late? They were here when I went to dinner," Jeff added. He checked his watch and sighed. "Don't tell me Scott decided to go off on a Pepsi run again with Alan because he couldn't tolerate Coke? And where is Gordon?" He swallowed, realizing how harsh his words sounded. "Sorry, boys, I'm just worried…"

Virgil and John exchanged looks, and Jeff became instantly aware that there was something his boys weren't telling him. He ignored them as he picked up the phone. "Hello?"

It was Anastasia, the woman who worked at the hospital they frequented all too often. Saving lives was a dangerous business, and one of them had gotten hurt too many times. "Jeff, I'm so terribly sorry to bug you at this late hour, but we have Gordon Tracy here at our hospital. Scott was with him and checked him in and disappeared. We haven't been able to find him."

There was a pause. "And we checked the video out on our tarmac. We saw him being forced into a car by another man, and we saw Alan getting thrown into the trunk."

Jeff Tracy felt like his life had been ripped apart. And that was before he heard the other news:

"Jeff, your son Gordon is here at our hospital as well. We've run preliminary tests and determined that he has appendicitis. We would like for you to sign the consent forms, since he's currently unconscious."

"Send them electronically," Jeff ordered. "I'm on my way," he added. He hung up the phone and looked at his boys.

"Scott and Alan have been kidnapped," he said, breaking the silence that threatened to hang over the room. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes.

By speaking those words, he felt like he had signed his both of his sons' death warrants.


	5. You Think You Know

A/N: A little on the longer side. Don't worry, you'll get more of Jeff and the other boys next chapter.

## break ##

It had been two days since Alan and Scott had been kidnapped.

Two days of waiting and worrying.

Two days with no news, no leads, and no new information.

There hadn't even been any threats.

John was sick to his stomach with worry. The video from the hospital tarmac hadn't had sound, but they could still see what had happened. Scott must have had a bad promotion about Alan, because he had come running out right after Gordon had been checked into the hospital. The Hood had taunted Alan for a minute or two before Scott's arrival, and had then pulled a gun to Alan's head when he'd seen Scott.

John was unsure what the Hood said, but Scott must have agreed to do it, because he hung his head and shuffled over to a nearby car. The next movement: Scott's hand on the door; his face looking at the Hood, clearly looking for some sort of instruction. He got into the car – willingly, without making a fight. John was sure it all added up to some threat against Alan – but what? The gun that was held to Alan's head didn't give him any reassurance.

Alan was then knocked unconscious and shoved into the trunk. The trunk lid slammed and the car pulled off.

Out of all of the brothers, John had watched this video the most. He'd wanted desperately to be at the hospital, helping, but Gordon was still not feeling well – side affects of the appendicitis and migraine – and Jeff felt like Virgil would be better there, since he knew the medical terms and didn't mind a verbal debate with the doctors.

The fourth time through John could finally watch the video without nausea settling in his stomach. He didn't know whether or not that made him feel glad (that he could watch the video without wanting to throw up) or even sicker… he was watching his brothers get kidnapped again and again after all.

The FBI was actively involved and was trying to create as much of a media blackout as possible. They didn't want the world to know that the Hood had kidnapped a fifteen-year-old boy – that would just create too much danger, they felt. John wasn't sure how he felt about that. They were trying to work quickly and quietly, to uncover action.

Instead, the story that had gone out was that Scott Tracy and Alan Tracy had been kidnapped. It had, of course, been turned into a complete media frenzy. John sighed as he saw the news anchor on again who had been covering the case. It was time to listen to what she had to say. Pausing the footage just at the part where the Hood held a gun to his brother's head – damn, that made him dizzy all over again – John took a sip of Coke and watched the television

Personally, John hated Pepsi. He couldn't stand the stuff and didn't know how Scott liked it. To him it always tasted like cough syrup. He and Scott were known to take trips out to mainland if they didn't have their favorite drink on hand. But hey, usually they at least picked up groceries too, so that was something to be said for them. Still, he wanted to feel close to his brother, and besides going and taking a nap in his room, which he couldn't do because of time constraints, this was the closest he was going to get.

Hmm. Maybe it was the Pepsi that was making him want to throw up… John contemplated this as he un-muted the television, awaiting the anchor to start.

"_Nearly two full days after the kidnapping of Alan Tracy and Scott Tracy and there is no sign of them yet. An inside source from close to the investigation says that there are no ransom demands and that no threats have been made on either boys' life recently. The investigation did say that they are working with a lead for who has done it and they plan to release the footage of the kidnapping video – so stay tuned for that, Channel 8 will have an exclusive."_

John smirked. He knew why his father had given Channel 8 an exclusive, and not anyone else: the reporter was Ann-Marie's sister, and they knew she could report fairly and accurately. Besides, John thought, it was fun too see all the other reporters blunder and fluster about why _they_ hadn't gotten the exclusive.

"_Other media broadcasters are questioning Jeff Tracy's behavior. Why did Jeff Tracy send his sons to mainland so late at night? What were Alan and Scott Tracy doing at the hospital, unattended? Why did their plane, the Tracy One, land at the hospital unattended? Scott is age 30 and an adapt pilot, having earned many awards during his career. Gordon Tracy, the second-youngest boy, was sick that night, and was being charted to the hospital by Alan and Scott. Jeff Tracy planned to arrive later, but sent them first. Alan had been left alone for just a minute by Scott, and the unsub must have used that time to attack. Please be on the lookout for these boys…" _

A picture of Alan Tracy and Scott Tracy flashed on the screen. John nearly burst out laughing, despite the seriousness of the situation. The last-taken picture of Scott had him in his Pepsi shirt, standing next to Alan, who wore a shirt that read "Saint Scott." Jeff had grabbed it because it had both boys and had been taken just last week by Ohana after a family meal. John had to just shake his head. Well, now the Coke company would know that Scott wasn't a fan of theirs.

She finished the report and gave her conclusion, stating that there would be another update on the eleven o'clock news. John sighed and stared at the picture next to his desk. It was the same picture of Scott and Alan, both boys grinning wildly as they peered into the camera.

What he wouldn't give for their smiling faces to be here now.

## break ##

Scott would have given anything to be back at home. He had thrown up more than three times since they had arrived at what the Hood had informed them was to be their new "home." Scott bristled at the word home. Didn't the Hood understand? This would _never_ be their home. Their home was back on Tracy island. Or on the top four floors of the Tracy enterprise building – but best not to say that out loud.

Scott tried to move but again failed. The Hood had his arms tied tightly behind his back and had forced him into some sort of closet space. Scott loathed him more than ever now, and not just for how he was treated, although that was indeed part of it. He hated that Alan was getting hurt and that he couldn't control it. Actually, Scott couldn't control anything; the Hood had made that more than clear.

The Hood had informed Scott upon arrival at their new home (that Scott still refused to call his home – how could he?) that there would be explicit rules for both boys. Scott wasn't allowed to speak at all. He couldn't even say anything to Alan. He also wasn't allowed to eat and drink with the "rest of them."

It was clear that the Hood had a sick imagination. He wanted to play house with Alan, making Alan his child. As he'd taunted Scott and Alan, he'd said that he wanted to take away Jeff Tracy's son in a very painful way: by making Alan _his _son. Scott had, of course, said "no way in hell." That was when Scott's speaking privileges had been revoked.

Scott swallowed hard, trying to force the dry saliva down his throat. The man who was holding them both hostage had no intent on releasing either of them. He wanted to keep Alan away from Jeff; he wanted to make Alan his own. The Hood wasn't sure what he was going to do with Scott yet, but he'd taunted Scott, saying "he'd work something out." Scott was trying to put on a brave face for Alan, but he was really worried about what that _something_ might be.

And he was furious that he couldn't protect his younger brother.

## break ##

"Alan, you aren't eating your dinner," the Hood admonished. Actually, Alan had been told his real name – Ryan something or other. Alan didn't care. He just wanted to go home. He was angry, and he was hurt. The first day had been filled with a blur of pain, and he couldn't really remember much of it – except that Scott had been told that he couldn't speak. That had made Alan so angry. Even when Scott had tried to talk to Alan in private, his brother was punished. "You really should eat. I'm sure Scott would want you to do it," he sneered.

It took all of Alan's anger not to flip over his plate on the table. The Hood had already warned him that there would be consequences for his behavior. He'd already felt them, actually, that was why his arm was in a sling and broken.

The Hood's wife (a fact which Alan found all too creepy – who would marry someone wanted for… nevermind, best not to get into that now) smiled at him. "Maybe it's better we send him to bed hungry, Ryan. He has had a rough few days. You really didn't have to break his arm."

The Hood just shrugged. "It made him more cooperative, didn't it?" he responded. He grinned, obviously having just thought of an idea. "Fine, Alan. You don't have to eat. But I can make you wish you'd eaten dinner instead."

With that, the Hood grabbed Alan by his good arm, and steered him into another room. He shoved Alan to the floor, locked the door and left him there, wondering what was going to happen next.

## break ##

So, what do you think? *grins and ducks, running for life*

Oh - and I got the placement!


	6. Not Your Son

A/N: I'd like to take the time out to thank Criminally Charmed, who mentioned that there were some spelling errors & grammar errors in the last chapter. I will fix those tomorrow when I can see straight. I'd also like to thank Teboi, whose kind words spurred me on my really bad day to write this chapter. Thanks again to all my other reviewers – your feedback really does mean a lot!

## break ##

Alan had been kept in his room for the next six hours before the Hood had come back and had talked to him. He hadn't been given anything to eat, and his stomach grumbled, but he couldn't have eaten dinner even if he'd have wanted to; he felt nauseous and sick to his stomach.

The door cracked open, and Alan realized that it was probably the Hood. He closed his eyes. He hadn't seen Scott yet and was worried sick. He was also still extremely angry that the Hood had broken his arm. _Why_? Still, he knew why without even asking: the Hood was all about control. When Alan hadn't given him the submission he'd wanted, thus he'd been punished.

Suddenly, it all came back to him, and he didn't even hear the door open wider as he relived the memory.

_Flashback_

"_I'm not going to be your son like in some kind of twisted game!" Alan shouted, glaring at the Hood as if the Hood had personally ruined his life – which he had in many ways. This was certainly not how Alan had planned to spend his break. Alan swallowed hard and tried to stop crying; suddenly wishing that he was fighting with his father again. While arguments with Jeff weren't pleasant, at least there wasn't risk of life or death or any other type of physical punishment._

"_Now, now, Alan," the Hood responded. The grin he wore made Alan even more nauseous – how could he be happy at a time like this? "You're going to listen to me, and you're going to listen to me good. You have four older brothers, right?" _

_Alan didn't respond, but chose to glare at the Hood instead. He closed his eyes after only a minute, wishing that the world would stop spinning. _

"_Anyway," the Hood responded, reaching out and tracing a finger down Alan's cheek, "I can hurt anyone of them at any time. I can make them wish that you had never been born. I can control their thoughts. Why do you think Gordon's been so ornery lately, Alan? I've been messing with his mind. You should really be quite upset with him – I've been messing with him both physically and mentally for awhile and he didn't tell you anything." _

"_You're sick," Alan growled, only to be shoved into the wall by the Hood. The Hood had his hands on Alan's arms, pinning him to the wall, not allowing Alan a chance to escape or even to move. "I won't play your twisted—" His thoughts were cut off when the Hood slapped him, his eyes glowing. _

"_Don't interrupt me, or I'll make sure Scott pays the price," the Hood growled. "And I can hurt any single one of your brothers if you don't do what I say." _

_Alan closed his eyes, trying to block out the Hood's leering face and evilly glittering eyes. It didn't work. He was roughly dropped to the floor, and the Hood placed his hand on Alan's arm, almost in a fatherly sort of way. "So, are you ready to listen to me, Alan?" _

"_Go to hell," Alan spat. He didn't care what the Hood said. He would do as Scott said instead: refuse to listen to him._

"_Tsk, tsk, tsk, Alan," the Hood responded, "and here I was so hoping that we could avoid this…" with that, he took Alan's arm, and twisted it hard, making Alan scream in pain even as he heard the snap signaling his left arm was broken._

_## end flashback ## _

"Aw, Alan, you didn't notice me, I'm so upset," the Hood said as he looked at the teenager. He snorted, trying to control his anger. He knew that Scott had said not to listen to him, and it seemed like Alan was choosing to listen to his older brother. He'd really have to punish Scott for that. There had been a reason he'd revoked Scott's speaking privileges.

Alan wanted to tell him off, but had learned that doing that would only bring more pain. He opted for not choosing to do anything instead except looking at the floor. Maybe the Hood would think he was submissive and not try anything. He sighed, not even hearing the water running in the bathroom until it was stopped.

"So, Alan," the Hood said as he excited the bathroom. He smiled at the teenager's glaring eyes. When Alan finally accepted that he was his son and not Jeff's… Oh, the Hood would be so pleased. He might even tell Alan his actual name. What had his mother been thinking when she'd named him Trangh? It hardly mattered now. "Will you accept that you're my son now? Will you accept your last name as not being Tracy?"

He had not planned on tormenting Alan in this way until he'd been at his house for at least a week, but Scott had accidentally spoken and had made the Hood angry. Why couldn't Scott obey a simple command? He had been nice and had let Scott out of the closet, and he'd gone and pissed the Hood off. What an idiot. He'd also originally planned this for Scott, but what the heck; why not torment Alan? Knowing he had caused Alan pain would give Scott great emotional grief.

"No way," Alan responded. He pushed himself up off of the floor with his good arm. "I won't listen to a lun—"

The Hood slapped him. "I don't like being referred too as that," he said. He grabbed Alan by his underarm and dragged him to the bathroom. "So, are you ready to accept that you're my son?"

"No way in hell-" Alan started to say, but was cut off. The man grabbed him under both of his shoulders and shoved him under the water. Alan hadn't even had a chance to get a deep breath before going under, and struggled against the weight of the Hood that held him under. He felt like he was going to drown. He couldn't scream, he couldn't do anything…

After what seemed like an eternity, he was allowed back out of the water. Alan gasped, spitting the water out of his mouth. He pushed against the Hood and was allowed to fall, coughing, to the floor.

"So," the Hood responded, not even phased by the teen who could have indeed drowned, "Are you going to listen to me now?" He'd talked to one of his companions before he had left prison and asked what he could do to get a stubborn teenager to listen to him. It had been in his plans all along to get revenge on Alan. Waterboarding, the man insisted, was one of the best ways to go. The Hood would see if he was right today.

"How many different ways can I say no?" Alan responded. He wasn't prepared for the strong hands that gripped him and shoved him under the water again, although this time he was able to catch a breath as he was forced under the stream of water. He was held under for longer this time. Alan counted the seconds, trying not to think of the fact that he could be drowning: 30, 31, 32, 33…

The Hood allowed him back out of the water. "Are you happy now?" he asked, stroking Alan's hair as if in an affectionate way. Alan pulled back, resisting the Hood's touch, only to be slapped yet again. "You made me hurt you, Alan," he said in a condescending tone of voice. "I didn't want to do that."

_Yeah, right,_ Alan thought. He swallowed hard. The water torture – whatever it was – would probably continue until he agreed to be the Hood's son, but he couldn't agree. There was just no way that he could mentally and emotionally…

Suddenly, he was back under the water again. This time he didn't bother to count the seconds, but instead closed his eyes and forced himself to think about anything but the situation. John in the number five space ship. Scott, who would be there to protect him. But it was useless. Alan gasped, trying to suck in air that wasn't there, knowing all the meanwhile he would be loosing precious oxygen. What he wouldn't give for swimmers' lungs.

It seemed like an eternity before he was pulled out of the water. This time, he spent longer coughing, and knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer against the Hood.

"So," the Hood said, an evil glare on his face, "Are you ready to listen, Alan? Maybe someday, we can arrange for you to go back to Jeff. But not right now, Alan. You see, Jeff has really hurt me, and I want to keep you safe, so that he doesn't hurt you. You understand what I'm saying?"

_Yeah, that you're a psychopath and an idiot, _Alan managed to think before coughing up water yet again.

"I really don't want to hurt you, Alan. If you would only listen to me, you could be my son. I wouldn't call you a mistake or tease you," the Hood soothed. Or at least attempted too. His voice reminded Alan of fingernails scratching against wood. Suddenly, Alan was grabbed and held under water one more time. This time, Alan fought it, despite knowing that he was going to loose precious oxygen.

It seemed like an eternity before he was allowed back up again. This time, Alan gasped and sucked in all the air that he could. Tears freely flew down Alan's face and he didn't bother to hide them.

"Just say that you're willing to be my child, Alan, and all this can stop," the Hood responded. "You don't have to be happy about it. Just accept that I'm caring for you, and Jeff isn't, and I won't shove you under the water again. If you don't agree, I'll have to keep hurting you."

Somewhere in the back of Alan's mind he realized that the Hood was playing this game on purpose; he knew it, but he just couldn't fight any longer. His brain was desperately screaming for oxygen. And he didn't want the Hood to hurt any of his other brothers. He swallowed hard. Maybe giving in was best for now. "Y-yes," he stuttered, even as he felt the first teardrop fall. "I'll—I'll… b-be…"

"You can say it, Alan," the Hood encouraged.

"Y-y-our son," Alan stuttered. The teardrops dripped down now without hesitation. He hated showing weakness, and here he was, showing weakness and giving in.

"Good boy," the Hood responded, ruffling Alan's hair. He stood up, leaving the teenager in the bathroom as he opened the bedroom door, looking for the one person on the farm that could calm Alan down: Scott.

## break ##

_Sixteen hours later…_

Virgil paced the hospital anxiously. Gordon was doing better but the doctors hadn't given him the all-clear to be able to let go yet, despite the fact that Virgil had insisted that they could more than adequately care for him on the Tracy island. He exhaled slowly as he looked at the room where Gordon was taking a shower. He was glad that the teen could at least be somewhat active again.

Jeff was using every legal law enforcement office possible to bring Alan and Scott back home. There had only one lead since the video: a postage box, shipped to Jeff's office. Ann-Marie had the misfortune of opening it and finding its contents. One picture was of Alan, who was kneeling down, his knees and his palms both touching the floor. Virgil was sure he didn't want to know the story behind that. The picture was signed, _Alan Trangh. _

It felt like some kind of sick joke. Virgil and John both suspected the same thing – the Hood was trying to make Alan his child. Jeff had been furious upon receipt of the picture and had locked himself in his office bedroom. Virgil was actually hoping that his father got some sleep – he'd been up for nearly 48 hours.

The second picture was a picture of Scott. Scott was simply standing for the photograph, dressed in an entirely different outfit than the one he'd left the house in. In his hands he held a simple plaque that read "slave boy."

Virgil had decided he really didn't want to know what that meant… but figured he would, eventually. There had been no ransom demands. There had, however, been a letter in the envelope addressed to Jeff and the boys. Virgil fingered his copy of it thoughtfully.

_You thought you were so clever, Jeff. First you left me to die at the cave, then you left me to die in the prison system. Now I'm getting my revenge. Alan will soon be my child, and if Scott's obedient enough, I'll let him live. __In the meantime: _

_Gordon: Good luck. Hope you feel better… well, not really, but as long as Alan listens to me, I'll lay off the mind control._

_Virgil: I really hate your name. Consider yourself next on my hitlist._

_John: How are the stars? Been back up in five yet? _

_Jeff: Good luck getting your sons back. They're mine to keep. _

_If I haven't been found in a month, I'll let you speak to Alan again. Scott won't get to speak to you until he learns to control his temper, though…_

Virgil sighed as he re-read the letter, wishing desperately that there was some clue in it other than he was next on the Hood's target list and that Scott and Alan had been hurt.

## break ##

John groaned as he awoke from his sleep. Brains and Fermat were back from Five, and had ordered John to go take a nap. He'd been unable to sleep in his bed and so had opted to sleep in Scott's bed instead, even putting up with the Pepsi covers that Alan had given to Scott as a birthday present the previous year. John had, jokingly, given his brother a 'Coke' pillowcase, which he was pleased to see that his brother still used. John sighed, stretching as he got up. How did Scott sleep in his bed? It was way to lumpy for John.

Making his way to the kitchen, John was surprised to see Brains sitting there, tinkering with something. "What do you have?" John asked, grabbing a Pepsi from the fridge. Maybe if he drank it cold he wouldn't want to throw up as much. There had to be some reason Scott liked it, right?

"I th-thought you li-li- preferred Coke," Brains responded, looking at John in surprise.

John just shrugged, opening the can and taking a sip. He set it down. Nope. Even cold, it still tasted awful. _Scott, _he thought, _you'd better get back soon, because I'm sick of drinking your stuff for you_, _and the Pepsi company won't want to go out of business._ "I just miss Scott."

Brains nodded. "I am w-w-w – trying to work out s-s-something that will help. Alan and S-S-S – his brother – had their watches on in the v-v-ideo. They did n-not take them off. I am t-t-rying to track down the watch's l-l-ast known location. M-maybe they can r-e-e - tell us something we don't know."

"That's a great idea," John said. "How can I help?"

He'd give anything for a lead. He'd give anything to get Scott and Alan back. Even if it meant drinking Pepsi for the rest of his life.

## break ##

"Gordon, the hospital said that you shouldn't stress yourself out," Virgil reminded his younger brother. Gordon glared at him before muting the news channel.

"I want to know what's going on with Scott and Alan," he responded, looking directly at his older brother, not flinching. Years of playing pranks and dozens of times of tough rescues had given Gordon nerves of steel.

"Then don't listen to Channel Ten. Listen to Channel Eight. Channel ten distorts everything," Virgil said. "Listening to them, you'd think Dad had kidnapped Alan and Scott and was holding them hostage for ransom, or something."

Gordon rolled his eyes, then paused. "Wait, someone actually had that theory?"

"Oh, yeah," Virgil responded. There had been a reason Channel 8 had been given an exclusive. It had happened right after the Channel 10 news had accused Jeff of kidnapping his boys as one of their theories. Virgil had video taped it, and sometime, when they could look back on the incident and laugh, he'd show the video tape. Or he'd use it to get the newscaster fired from his job. "Or, instead of listening to the news, how about I fill you in?"

Turning off the television, Gordon said, "That sounds like a great idea."

## break ##

Jeff Tracy paced his office. He missed his sons. He knew one of the news media's theories was that he'd kidnapped his sons to hold them for ransom because he didn't want to pay takes on a certain amount of money. The thought made him sick to his stomach. While he hadn't been on good terms with Alan lately, the thought of kidnapping his son because of monetary reasons was ludicrous.

He exhaled slowly as he thought about the letter the Hood had sent. Jeff had expected to hear ransom demands from the Hood, not hear that he was taking Alan away from him forever.

Which, if Jeff had anything to say about it, wouldn't be forever – it would be for as short as time as possible.

Someone rapped on the door and opened it. "Jeff?" Ann Marie asked. She had been working overtime, trying to keep Jeff's company in order until his boys were found. "The police are here. They'd like to speak to you. They believe they have a lead."

## break ##

Scott Tracy was furious with himself and blamed himself for Alan's pain. After all, he'd been the one to speak, making Alan get punished. He couldn't even comfort Alan because the Hood had separated them.

Again.

Not like that was any real surprise, or anything. The Hood had made it clear that he'd favored Alan.

Groaning as he shifted, Scott tried to ignore the fact that both of his arms were chained to the wall and that he was in some kind of barn. The night air was freezing cold and he would have given anything for a sweater, or to be inside.

Hell, he'd drink Coke to be able to be home again. Unfortunately, drinking Coke made him think of John, which made him think of home, which made him homesick all over again. He then thought of Dr. Pepper, which Virgil drank excessively. "Dr. Pepper – so misunderstood" was Virgil's favorite quote. He'd actually painted it onto his bedroom wall.

Scott couldn't help but smile, thinking of the memory. His father had been bemused, but allowed Virgil to keep the decoration there. Gordon avoided caffeine and only drank Gatorade. Alan, trying to keep on the good side of both John and Scott, drank both Coke and Pepsi, swapping out one for the other when he was with either boy. Scott hadn't even known he'd liked Coke until they were with John one time and Alan had ordered his brother's favorite drink.

"Well, well, well," the cold voice of the Hood began, snapping Scott out of his thoughts. "Lookie who we have here… Someone who looks awful cold." He grinned, his evil smile making Scott worry. "Don't worry," the man said, "I have someone who wants to see you. Shocking, I know. But Alan's a little upset because of how I've treated him, and I've decided to let you see him."

"You bastard," Scott said, forgetting that he was unable to speak, angry only at the Hood.

The Hood slapped him. "I told you not to do that, Scott. Don't worry, though. I'll still let you see Alan. When you're done comforting him, we'll discuss what you're going to do for me."

There was an uneasy feeling in Scott's gut as the Hood took off his bindings and walked him into the house. _What was going to happen next?_

## break ##

So there you have it. Long, but full of plenty of whump, and hopefully answers a few questions. Or leaves a few unanswered questions. Probably won't be able to update again until Tuesday; I have internship starting Monday, class all day Tuesday and a project due Tuesday morning that I haven't started yet. Probably should be working on it now, but it's 11:25 at night and I just wasn't motivated to start it.

Let me know what you liked, and what you think is going to happen next!


	7. Make You Pray

Scott wasn't happy when he heard what had happened to Alan. As the teenager clung to his brother, he told Scott what had happened through tears. It was clear that, although the Hood hadn't actually physically injured Alan, he had emotionally scarred him - so much so that he actually had agreed to become his son. He know knew the answer to why the Hood wanted Alan to be his son.

"_Why do I want Alan to be my son?" the Hood had leered as he'd walked Scott to where Alan was. "Because it's a perfect way to pay back Jeff, Scott. Think about it. I could kill Alan, sure. And I might have a few months ago. But my wife has always wanted children. Neither of us wanted to deal with a messy, crying baby. Alan can care for himself just fine, and you're here to help. What would hurt Jeff more than having him loose his son in a horrible, wretched death?"_

"_Having Alan hate him," Scott said with a horrible, sinking feeling in the gut of his stomach. He was suddenly fully aware of the Hood's plans. The man didn't really care about his wife's dream to have a child. He didn't really care about Alan living. All he cared about was hurting Jeff in the worst way possible. _

The fact that he'd given into the Hood was ironically what Alan was stressed about the most. Not the fact that he'd been kidnapped, tortured, and been told by a psychopath that he was going to be his new family… no, Alan was upset because he'd given in. Scott didn't find this out until almost ten minutes into the conversation. Because Alan had given in, he was worried that Scott would hate him; that his father would be disappointed, that Virgil and Gordon would tease him even more.

Scott was pissed off. He was even more pissed off because he knew he was the one who had caused the Hood to treat Alan this way. After all, on the way to the barn, the Hood had so _kindly_ informed Scott (well, it was really more like he taunted Scott) that the punishment Alan had been given had really been meant for him, but then… Scott had been unable to pay attention to his small command, so he'd decided to torture Alan instead.

Yeah, Scott was angry, but he didn't let it on to Alan, worried that Alan would think that he was angry at him. Scott felt chills flash through him as Alan described how it felt to be shoved under water by the Hood, to not be able to breathe.

The last sentence from Alan made Scott want to rip out the Hood's heart out, not that he didn't want to already. "And he wants me to be his child!" Alan said, bursting into tears, not even noticing when they shed. Scott wrapped Alan up in a hug, hoping he didn't look as angry as he felt.

"Alan," Scott responded, "I don't blame you. Nobody blames you. Waterboarding, Alan, is torture. Torture used on hardened criminals. Did Gordon ever tell you what happened when he found out that it had been used in the United States from time to time?"

Alan shook his head, attempting to dry his tears with his shirt sleeve. He swallowed hard, a lump in his throat as he realized that the shirt he was wearing was one that the Hood had bought him. "N-no," Alan sniffled.

"Gordon was talking to his teammates about it; one of them had a father who had worked in the CIA. Apparently, the most hardened criminal they had only lasted two minutes, Alan. Some CIA experts can't even last fourteen seconds. You held out as long as you could, and you have nothing to be ashamed of, Alan." Scott ruffled his hair. "Besides, we might even be able to work this to our advantage…"

Knowing that he had Alan's full attention, Scott began talking to Alan about what he'd thought about out in the barn.

## break ##

_One week after abduction _

Virgil Tracy was absolutely exhausted. The normally pleasant flight to the Tracy Island had completely tuckered him out. Of course, normally he didn't make both runs in one day within a very short time frame.

Gordon needed his medicine, and rather than just get the doctors to prescribe him a new dose, Jeff sent Virgil back to get it. He also wanted Virgil to pick up John on the way, saying that John had suffered long enough. Thunderbirds were temporarily offline, "awaiting upgrades and battling a force of evil", according to Lady P.

John nudged his brother. "You look really, really tired," he said. "You should've let me fly back, Virg. I could've done it."

"I know, John." Virgil rolled his eyes. "It's just that… never mind. Dad says that our rent-a-car will be waiting for us in about half an hour, and he says to just hang here until then."

John nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like a p—," John started to say before he was cut off by a scream.

"I don't want to go with you! Let me go! You're not my father!" the scream was loud and made John's ears wince. It took him almost a full three seconds to recognize the voice.

"That's Alan!" John said, tugging on Virgil's arm. Virgil became instantly alert, dropping his Dr. Pepper.

"Don't touch me! Let me go! Release my arm!" the voice continued. John pushed himself off of the grass, scanning for the nearest figure. It wasn't until he had looked for almost a full minute before recognizing the form of his brother.

## break ##

Alan Tracy was not happy. When he had heard about the Hood's plans to move them, he'd decided to do something about it. Scott had suggested jokingly that Alan should act like the Hood was his father, luring him into a false sense of security and then acting out.

When the Hood had announced that Scott and Alan would be flown somewhere else at the dinner table, Alan had knocked his plate over and run to the bedroom that the Hood had said was his.

## Flashback ##

_Scott had just been told that he would get to live. His job would be to be Alan's tutor and his full-time caretaker. The Hood, of course, would not let Alan go to school – even an online school was out of the question. College, the Hood said, could be done through correspondence classes if both boys were still alive at that point. Alan had very targeted things that he had to do for the Hood. Neither Alan nor Scott liked the structure, but neither of them could do anything about it. Having just spent an hour getting lectured on how his life was to change, Alan Tracy was understandably on edge._

_It would have been one thing if it was his father telling him things; it was another knowing they were coming from a complete lunatic who wanted to hold him prisoner and brainwash him to hate his father. _

"_So, we're going to be moving to another location soon," the Hood responded. "I would like to tell you what will happen during the transfer." _

_Scott, who was about to serve the Hood his supper, suddenly stood there, frozen to the floor as if it had suddenly turned to ice. Scott had also been put in charge of all of the household and outdoor chores. Apparently, Robin didn't want to have to work since they had a new slave boy. Scott swallowed hard, then handed the Hood his food before turning back to the stove. He had to remember to pretend like he didn't exist._

"_I'm not going with you," Alan said. He wore a sulky, put-on face. Scott was immensely proud of his younger brother. He had survived the waterboarding that would have made most grown men crumble, and he had actually taken Scott's joke very seriously and had attempted to put it into action. "I would rather stay here." _

_The Hood – who was now apparently called Ryan Trangh, although something didn't feel right about that name to Alan – wore a frown. "Alan, I don't like your attitude," he said. "I understand you're upset because you feel I'm not your biological father, but you don't have a choice in traveling with us. Here's what's going to happen…" the Hood then proceeded to outline the plans for transport; plans that made Scott and Alan both nervous._

## end flashback ##

Today, the day of the travel – to where, neither Alan nor Scott knew – Alan had settled on a plan. Although he totally trusted Scott, he didn't even tell Scot the plan, not wanting Scott to hear it. If not for Scott, Alan would have given up on day two after the torture the Hood had put him through.

Alan pulled against the Hood's arm again. He wasn't going to allow himself to be dragged through the airport like some kind of latchkey or kid. Most passengers had glanced at him and then glanced away, as if he had some kind of evil disease. Alan suspected that the Hood had someone inside airport security – why else would they have chosen this airport? - because there was not even a single officer that had looked at them.

"I hate you!" Alan shouted at the top of his lungs. The Hood wouldn't dare smack him in public. Oh, Alan would get paid hell for it later, he knew, but he wasn't about to move through the public area of transport without putting up a fight. "STOP GRABBING ME! You aren't my parent!"

Suddenly, a familiar face appeared from behind the shadows. The Hood must have seen it or sensed the figures' appearance, because he quickly grabbed Alan, whipped out the knife he'd managed to get through security, and stuck it against the teens' neck.

"Alan!" John called, a worried look on his face. Virgil appeared only seconds later. "Let him go, Hood!"

The man laughed, rivaling in the circumstance: he had Scott already tied up in the hanger, with no chance of escape, and Alan completely at his mercy. It was time to show the oldest and the youngest Tracy that they were _his_. Personally, he could care less if Scott lived or not, but he'd always had a fascination with Alan. He could give his wife the child she had always wanted and get revenge on Jeff in one fell swoop. And he supposed that it was admittedly nice to have Scott around for the house help… even if he did have to beat him into compliance sometimes.

"Yeah, right," the Hood responded. "Back off, or I'll kill him!"

Virgil backed off instantly, but John wasn't as willing. "I swear to God," John responded, "if you hurt him…"

"I already have," the Hood said with a simple smile. He grinned, tightening his grip on Alan's neck. Alan tried to use his hands to claw his way out of it, tugging against the man's grip, but he couldn't get away. "Alan's my son now, John, not Jeff's."

"Honey, you need to get in the plane!" Another voice said, calling from the open hanger door. Two shots were fired. John instantly leapt at Virgil, shoving him down. Three more shots were fired. One caught John's arm, and he cried out in pain.

"John!" Alan screamed, trying desperately to get to his younger brother.

"Tell Jeff Tracy," the Hood responded, "that Alan is _mine_. And he'll stay that way for a very, very, long time." With that, the Hood dragged a screaming and kicking Alan back to the plane, shoved him in and shut the door. Someone and started the engine, and before John could even force himself up, the plane took off.

It was then when blood started to trickle down John's blue t-shirt, and the reality sunk in: the two had failed to save their brothers… again.


	8. He's Not Dead

Scott Tracy refused to believe it. He refused to believe that the Hood was telling him the truth. After all, when had he ever done that in the past? But there was a crunching, sickening reality that was telling him to just accept it as fact, that his one of his younger brothers was dead; dead because he'd tried to rescue another brother.

The fact that John never should have been put in that didn't even register with Scott. Scott swallowed hard, trying to fight the tears dripping down his cheeks. It had been twelve hours since he'd heard but he was just now starting to process it. _His brother was dead_. That was what the Hood had said, and that was what Alan believed. Maybe he hadn't really had time to process it because he was still trying to process everyone else.

Alan had been sullen and hadn't put up a fight during the transport to the car from the plane, which Scott was sure had something to do with the gunfight outside. Scott had heard the shots, and unable to move, had simply prayed that nobody was hurt. He had been shocked when the Hood had told him what happened.

The Hood hadn't told him and Alan anything until they'd gotten them to the new house. Then, he'd sat them down and told them that their brother, John, was dead; that he'd just heard that fact on the news. He also informed them that they may as well give up because their family would never want them back now. He'd make sure they never wanted them back. That had set Alan into tears. The Hood didn't bother to let Scott comfort Alan this time, but instead moved Scott somewhere else – Scott didn't really know where he was.

_Flashback_

"_I'd like to tell you boys something else, too," the Hood responded, having given Alan and Scott a chance to digest their new house 'rules.' It was some type of sick, twisted fantasy that they were forced to play. Scott felt like it was a sick game of hide-and-go seek. "Boys, when you heard that gunshot… I fired at John's arm just to scare John, but I think he must have moved, because the bullet hit him somewhere I didn't intend it too. He's dead, boys."_

"_You're lying!" Alan said, leaping from the blue couch instantly. Scott hadn't even noticed the couch, too absorbed in the information. He was too numb to move. John dead? His younger, star-gazing, Coke-loving brother dead? He was numb with shock. One thought that might have jolted him had he not been so numb was that now the Coke company would have a serious loss of income because his brother wasn't drinking it. "That's not true! I saw you – you didn't hit…"_

_Alan was physically grabbed and shoved against the wall. Scott was up an instant, yelling, "Don't hurt him!"_

_The Hood dropped Alan to the floor, sending a quick kick to his stomach as he glared at Scott. "I thought I told you not to talk," he growled. His teeth showed, and they weren't white. Scott backed up, trying to move the Hood as far away as he could from his baby brother as possible. He tried to look over the Hood's shoulder at Alan, but wasn't able to. "Scott!" Alan cried, trying to get up, but there was no use. Another man had come from behind and grabbed Alan's shoulders, holding him back as the Hood dragged Scott away._

## end flashback ##

Scott mulled over that last thought. There had been another man there, hadn't there? He knew he'd seen one. The man had held Alan back while the Hood had dragged him away. Swallowing hard, Scott sighed. That made two enemies that the boys would have to fight to get back home.

_If they were even allowed back home, and if there was anything waiting for them when they got back home_. No – Scott couldn't allow himself to think like that; it was such a stupid notion that he would be stupid to believe. Exhaling slowly, Scott closed his eyes. He may as well go to sleep. There was nothing he could do.

_God, _he prayed, _please take care of Alan, because I can't comfort him right now…_

## break ##

"No!" Alan said as he glared at the Hood defiantly. He wouldn't do it. There was no way that he could allow himself to write that note.

The blank piece of paper sat on the table, untouched. There was a gray, sharpened pencil that was currently laying perfectly still next to it. Alan knew exactly what he was supposed to write, and refused to do so. He couldn't believe that the Hood – oh, wait, Ryan-whatever-his-face-was – had killed his older brother.

He felt sick to his stomach and knew that the torture was only just beginning. "I won't do it," Alan added.

The Hood shrugged. He had expected this result from Alan. After all, Alan had shown his inability to compromise with the whole waterboarding incident. He hadn't really wanted to torture the teen, but had no choice, he felt. Alan had to learn some way to cooperate. "Do you really want a repeat of last time?" he asked, making sure his voice was at a chillingly low level.

"I'm _not_ writing the letter!" Alan responded. He grabbed the paper, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it at the Hood's face. "Go to hell!" he added, running out of the room. It was a classic Alan tantrum that had last manifested when Scott had tried to teach him his alphabet – about ten years ago. Alan wasn't thinking about that now though; he was thinking of the fact that he had to get away, and he had to get away now.

The Hood, however, had about a hundred pounds on Alan and had spent much of his life running as well. He also knew the layout of this land as well – this was where he'd grown up. He'd always thought of it as his house. He would never be found here. "Get back here, Alan," he ordered. Knowing he wouldn't comply, the Hood grinned as he moved through the secret passage in the wall, cutting off Alan. A surprised Alan tried to backtrack, but wasn't able too. The Hood tackled him and pinned him to the floor, pressing Alan's arms firmly against the ground so that he could not move.

"I don't like having to chase you, Alan. Really, I'm just trying to protect you from a family who doesn't want you," the Hood responded. He grinned inwardly, but kept an angry outward expression. This was so much more fun than just killing Alan outright. He should have thought of this approach in prison. If not for his wife, though, he wouldn't have thought about it.

"They do want me!" Alan responded, gripping the carpet, trying to fight back against the Hood. The black carpet explained exactly how he was feeling inside: Stormy and angry. He would have to continue to fight back. Sure, the Hood had seen him at his lowest point at the bank at London, but he had no idea how hard Alan could and would fight back.

"Just sign the letter, Alan," the Hood ordered. He smirked, seeing that Alan was at least being a good boy and wearing his brace. He moved himself up, keeping a tight grip on Alan that had forced him down to the floor. He stepped carefully on the teen's already injured arm, making the teen cry out in pain. "Look," the Hood responded, "either you get that letter written, or I'll go blow up Tracy Island right now and then make you write the letter." The Hood knew that the boys wouldn't be on the island, but also suspected that threat wouldn't matter to Alan.

Alan's shoulders slumped. So this was it – he had no choice. Even if his family hated him… he couldn't let the Hood kill any more of them. A tear dripped down his face as he stared at the black carpet, thinking of John. "I'll write it," he said.

"Good," the Hood said. He grabbed Alan by his arm, physically dragging him to the kitchen, even though the teenager offered no resistance. The Hood shoved Alan into the brown table leg, making the teenage boy wince. The Hood went to the trash can, picked up the paper where it had fallen, and shoved that and the pencil at Alan. Now maybe he could get Alan to write a note saying that he didn't want to be found and scale off the search. "Now write it."

## break ##

Virgil Tracy was terrified. He had never been more scared in his life. Sure, there were plenty of life-threatening issues that he'd dealt with before, and he'd had his medical training. But there was nothing that could have prepared him for this. Seeing Alan get forced into the plane… There was no Scott there; he thought, wildly, remembering the detail. Where was Scott?

He'd called and left a message on his father's answering machine. Virgil had tried calling his brother Gordon, but there was no answer from that. Which made sense – his phone was dead back at the island. Virgil cursed himself for not remembering that.

The ambulance plane had come and picked up John and was taking him to the airport. One police officer had waited with Virgil, allowing him the freedom to make some calls, until he'd come back. He had been asked a bunch of questions – questions that admittedly, Virgil Tracy did not even remember now. Now, Virgil was sitting in the dull, blue waiting room at the hospital.

Soon, Anastasia greeted him. She smiled at the young Tracy "Your father has notified me that he is on his way," he said. "John will be fine, Virgil. You did the right thing by getting John help so quickly."

"I guess," Virgil responded. "His arm will be fine?"

Anastasia nodded. "They're patching it up right now. How is Gordon doing?"

Virgil smiled as he thought of his fair-haired younger brother. If he'd have thought about it, he would have realized that Anastasia was trying to do a classic trick: get him distracted and calmed down. "Gordon's doing much better, although I think he's taken out a permanent spot at the Y."

"Are there any leads on your brother's case?"

"There are a few. We know who took him, but there have been no reported sightings. I'm wondering if any of the leads are still valid, since I know they got moved today," he said with a sigh.

"I can tell you're nervous about something," Anastasia responded quietly. There was more to the surface then the gentle, panio-playing boy was telling her.

"I saw Alan, but I didn't see Scott. I mean, I know he could have already been in the plane, but…" for the first time since Alan's abduction nearly a week and a half ago, Virgil Tracy broke down into tears as he realized he had not seen his eldest brother anywhere in the vicinity.

Was it possible that Scott was dead?

## break ##

To be continued…


	9. Disposal Of A Body

A/N: Well, here you go! Hope you don't hate me too much for the cliffhanger...

## break ##

"What's wrong, Virgil?" Gordon was instantly at his brother's side. With John in the hospital, Jeff tracking down a lead that he hoped would lead to his boys, and Scott and Alan missing, Gordon was the only other brother Virgil could turn too. "Virgil?" he asked nervously.

All he had heard was that his brother had gotten shot and that Scott and Alan were still missing. It had been a long week, and Gordon had only recently been checked out of the hospital with the doctor's strict instructions for him to rest.

Gordon was angry – he couldn't go swimming for two weeks at least because his appendicitis had gotten infected. He was sure that the Hood had somehow helped him along with giving him that diagnosis. Besides, it would give him an additional reason – not that he didn't have enough already – to help take out the Hood later.

Anastasia smiled sweetly at the two brothers, placed a comforting hand on Virgil's knee, and left the room, muttering something about checking on John.

"I didn't see Scott," Virgil said, swallowing hard as he allowed the tears run down his face. "When we were on the plane. The Hood was dragging Alan toward the plane, but not Scott."

Worry fisted in Gordon's stomach. That was so not good. But he felt like Virgil had forgotten something. "Look, Virgil," he said, leaning on his older brother, "Did you think about the fact that he could have already had Scott in the plane?"

Virgil swallowed hard. "No, I didn't think about that," he said, turning toward his brother.

"Let's assume that Scott's alive, before we think the worst and think that Scott is dead," Gordon said with a soft smile. He swallowed hard, though, as he thought about it. _What if Scott was dead_? Then he just shook his head. "We can't think like that," he finally told Virgil.

Virgil glared at Gordon. "Why not?" he demanded, looking at his younger brother and studying him for the first time since his brothers' capture over a week ago. Gordon looked exhausted, and the scars on his arms made Gordon look as though he had been using drugs, even though Virgil knew he hadn't. But in all fairness… "Dude, what happened to your arms?"

"Remember?" Gordon asked, dropping to the brown, cold, and hard bench. He really hated those things. They were even worse than the hospital chairs. HE sighed, not wanting to talk about his arms, but then again, anything would be better than Virgil and him dwelling on the fact that Scott might be dead. "I fell out of my bed on the first night? Landed on the floor, really nice and neat?"

"Oh, yeah," Virgil responded as he closed his eyes. Then he turned to smile at Gordon. "I remember that."

Gordon groaned as he closed his eyes. He really didn't like the smile on Virgil's face - that meant he was going to get all medical-informational now. Well, at least the tactic had worked...

## break ##

Scott was emotionally exhausted and he felt sick to his stomach. The Hood had decided that the best trick to keep him from escaping was to keep him busy. Between the Hood's torture, lack of sleep and his worry about John, Scott was living on the stage of permanently irritated. The fact that it had been a week and three days since their capture didn't help much, either – Scott wanted to go home. Scott knew that Alan wanted to go home, too.

They missed their family.

Scott closed his eyes, trying to refrain from getting dizzy. The Hood had him on a steady diet of drugs (he didn't know what they were, but it was either him taking them or Alan taking them, as the Hood so kindly pointed out, so Scott really had no choice), and a not-so-steady diet of food. Scott's meals usually consisted of anything he could steal from the family meals he was forced to cook.

"Scott!" Alan hissed. He made his way inside, and looked around for the Hood. Then he sank into the blue chair.

Inasmuch as Scott wanted to complain about his treatment, he knew that his brother had it far worse. Okay, maybe the Hood wasn't physically abusing Alan as much as he was Scott, but the teenager was definitely getting his fair share of emotional torment. The Hood had taken to hitting Alan every time Alan mentioned anything to do with his previous life, anything from his likes to his dislikes to… whatever. It was as if the Hood was trying to brainwash them both.

Which he probably was, Scott reflected.

"Hey," he signed towards his brother. The boys had discovered a sign language book in Alan's room. They both stole precious minutes away from the Hood whenever they could to learn from the book to communicate with each other. So far Scott could sign "hey", his name, "I love you", and "don't."

His skills needed some practice, but at least Alan knew what he meant and the Hood didn't.

"So, Alan," the Hood said as he entered the room. Neither Alan or Scott felt comfortable about calling him Ryan. It made him too personable – too much like a real person – which Scott didn't think that he was, really. What kind of person kidnapped a teenage boy and made his older brother their slave?

_And killed their other bother? _Scott felt sick to his stomach again as he thought about John. He closed his eyes temporarily. He couldn't believe his brother was dead.

Now he might actually have to start drinking Coke so that the company wouldn't take too big of a financial hit.

"I have a choice for you," the Hood continued. He latched onto Scott's arm, grabbing him at his elbow and physically restraining him. "Actually, first I have a question. Are you ready to become my son?"

Scott quickly shook his head. He didn't want Alan to become the Hood's son, even by verbal word of mouth. Alan shouldn't have to make the choice. He didn't care what the Hood said, either – Jeff Tracy was Alan's father.

Roughly shoving Scott to the floor, the Hood glared at him a shove towards the floor. He placed his foot non-too-gently on the small of Scott's back, not allowing him to get up. "I even got you a gift," the Hood cooed as he grinned. He dug the information out of his pocket.

There was a falsified photo ID, a birth certificate, and other information – including a fake newspaper announcement about Alan Trangh's birth. "See?" the Hood responded with a grin, gloating as he showed Alan the information. "It's official now, Alan. You're my child."

Alan, who had been staring at the Hood in mute horror until this point, finally snapped. Scott had shaken his head, hoping he was communicating silently to Alan not to give into the Hood, when Alan flipped. "I'm not your son!" Alan cried out. "I am the son of Jeff Tracy. I will never be your son!"

"Fine, then, if that's your choice," the Hood growled. He nodded towards Mullion, who had come in from the door. Scott winced. He had not seen the man since his capture and was hoping that he wouldn't see him throughout the whole time period. Of course they wouldn't get that lucky. But when had Mullion escaped? They hadn't been notified about that.

Then again, if it was after their capture, Scott could see why they wouldn't have been.

"I think Scott is a negative influence on you, Alan," the Hood said. He removed his foot from Scott's back, and Scott forced himself up to a sitting position. Somehow Scott knew he wasn't going to like what he heard about next. "Mullion, dispose of Scott, please."

"No!" Alan cried. Tears streaked down his face as he launched himself towards Scott, hoping against hope to somehow save his brother. Mullion had about 150 pounds on Alan, though, and was stronger and faster. He grabbed Scott by his arms and dragged him out of the room.

"Alan!" Scott yelled back, breaking the Hood's demands that said he couldn't speak. How he hoped the Hood wouldn't punish Alan for that. "Don't believe him, Alan! I'll come back for you!"

With that, Scott Tracy was knocked unconscious.

## break ##

Mullion was not happy with his task. He really didn't like killing people. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He was perfectly content with killing people when he had time to torture them, but he wasn't allowed to torture Scott. He was only allowed to dump him.

He scowled. His plan was to dump Scott by the side of the road, and then come back later and torment him when the Hood was busy.

Lifting up the unconscious Scott with ease, Mullion dropped the boy's body into the nearby bushes. They wouldn't totally hide Scott from the road's view, but Mullion didn't care. He figured it was a deserted road, and that nobody would see Scott.

With that, he drove off, leaving Scott unconscious, bound and gagged, unknowingly fighting for his life.

## break ##

So, did you enjoy? Okay, perhaps enjoy is the wrong word. Do you think Scott should live? Do you think he should a) escape by himself, b) be found by someone who wants to help him, or c), be found by Mullion? Review and let me know.


	10. A Rescue, Maybe

Alan couldn't stop the tears that streamed down his face, nor the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him. Because of him, two brothers were dead. That was dead, with a capital "D". He couldn't speak and could barely breathe. He didn't even notice it when the Hood locked him in his room.

Briefly, he considered the fact that Scott might be dead, a fact which Alan completely dreaded. Then he swallowed hard. What if the Hood was lying? It was entirely possible, but Alan still felt terrified of the Hood.

_John_! Alan suddenly remembered his older brother and swallowed hard. He felt sicker to his stomach, now. It wasn't fair. He swallowed hard. He hated the Hood. He didn't know how, but he had to escape.

Swallowing hard as he thought of his brothers, Alan buried his face in his hands and tried to think of an escape plan. Eventually, he cried himself to sleep.

## break ##

Jeff had never been so glad to see a lead in his life as he was now. His uncle growing up had been a police officer and had talked about the excitement of finding leads. Now he totally understood this.

They had a lead on where Scott and Alan might be. He'd all but demanded to go along with the police officers, but had been denied. Really, he understood, but he couldn't help but wish to embrace his sons in his arm again.

He sighed at the knock on the door and opened it. It was Ann-Marie. "What's wrong?" Jeff asked, taking the note from her. He'd seen the secretary this distraught before, but she'd seemed all right earlier.

Then Jeff understood. He paled as he read the note, noticing the blood stains that dotted the letter. He could not believe what he was reading.

_Dad, _

_The Hood wants me to tell you that I am now his child. He says that I am now his son. He says do not bother looking for me. Please don't _(the word was cut off).

Alan

Jeff felt like his heart had been ripped out at those very words. How_ dare _the Hood insinuate… he growled, his teeth showing. "I'm calling the detectives again," he responded at Ann-Marie.

She smiled faithfully at him. "Already done," she responded. She swallowed hard. "You should get to the hospital, though."

Jeff stared at her. Was there something that he did not know? Blinking, he looked at her. "What?" he said.

"I'm so sorry," she said. She thought that he had known. Closing her eyes, she said, "Jeff, when at the airport, the Hood attacked John and Virgil. They're at the hospital… I thought you knew…"

## break ##

"I'm glad you're okay," Virgil said as he sat at John's bedside. The hospital doctor wanted John to stay the night, and personally, Virgil completely agreed. He didn't want to worry about John's arm getting affected.

"What happened?" John asked. He swallowed hard. He felt remarkably dizzy. He glanced down at his jeans that Virgil had brought him so he wouldn't have to wear the loose-fitting hospital gown. "I don't feel so good."

"Kinda goes with the territory of getting shot, bro," Gordon responded, but Virgil could tell he looked worried. Virgil had filled Gordon in on what had happened. They had left a message with their father's office staff, having not been able to get ahold of him directly.

"I know that," John responded unhappily. "I just… I don't feel so good," he admitted with a tired sigh. "And I can't remember what happened…"

"Let me get this straight," Virgil responded. The doctor had not mentioned the possibility of amnesia. Of course, the doctor also hadn't talked to John for more than two minutes, so how would he know? "What do you last remember?"

"Getting off of the plane," John responded, "With you, Virgil, I do remember that. I just don't remember the events leading up to it."

Gordon shot Virgil a look that clearly said, "You share, you were there."

Virgil swallowed hard and sighed. "John, we were getting off of Tracy One to go and meet Dad, remember? We were waiting for a cab to pick us up. All of the sudden, we heard Alan screaming."

Gordon winced at the reaction on John's face. He himself had already heard this story once and knew where it was going. Exhaling slowly, Gordon forced himself to calm down. He really, really hated the Hood right now.

"Then the next thing I know," Virgil said with a swallow, "is that you were up on your feet. You'd seen him. We wanted to try and take the Hood from trying to take off with him. We were pretty much helpless; the Hood had full control over the situation."

John nodded, the memory slowly returning. "And we didn't know where Scott was," he responded. "We never did see him, did we, Virgil?"

Virgil shook his head and swallowed hard. "We're hoping he's still alive, but we really don't know," he admitted tiredly.

John closed his eyes, trying not to think of the fact that his oldest and youngest brother could be dead. "If the Hood so much as laid a hand on them…"

Surprisingly, it was Gordon who spoke up first. "Wait in line, bro," he said, taking what was usually Scott's line, "Wait in line."

## break ##

Scott slowly brought himself to consciousness. He did an immediate assessment of his body, trying to feel where everything was. Everything seemed to be in place. He closed his eyes as the memories assaulted him.

"_I think that Scott is too much of a bad influence on you," the Hood said. He nodded to Mullion, who grabbed Scott by his shoulders and dragged him out._

Feeling even sicker to his stomach now, Scott tried to squirm out of his binds. Nothing gave. Mullion had been remarkably through, Scott thought with a wave of disgust. He closed his eyes, feigning sleep as he heard the doors slam. He couldn't be sure whether the men were hostiles or friendly.

"I could have sworn that I someone over here," a voice said. Scott kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady. Were they there to help, or to hinder? That Scott did not know.

"Holy shit!" a man's voice swore. To Scott, it sounded like John, and he winced all over again, thinking about his younger brother.

_Dear God, please don't let him be dead. Because then it will be my entire fault…_

"There's a live one back here!" the man called. He instantly sprung out his knife and used it to slide through Scott's ropes. "Son, can you hear me?"

Scott didn't respond. If these men were from the Hood and it was a trap, both Scott and Alan would be punished for Scott speaking, and Scot knew that Alan would be in trouble enough already.

"He ain't awake, and he ain't speaking," the first man said. He swore when he saw the markings on Scott's skin. "Damn, this man has been through hell and back recently," he said. "You think he got family?"

"Probably," the second man said. "I dialed 9-1-1. They'll be here in ten."

"Now all we can do is wait for rescue, and for this kid to wake up so we can find out who he is," the first man said.

"Kid? If that," the second man snorted. "I'd wager he's in his mid-twenties."

With great effort, Scott Carpenter Tracy opened his eyes.

## break ##

Hope you enjoyed the early gift!


	11. It's Times Like These

A/N: Chapter 11! Hope you enjoy your weekend.

## break ##

His oldest had been found.

After days, hours of waiting and worrying, Jeff Tracy's oldest son had been found. He could never remember a time when he had been as relieved as right now.

Jeff Tracy breathed a sigh of relief – he couldn't believe his son was alright. It made him believe that things might actually turn out okay.

When he'd seen his son hold that "slave boy" sign, he'd honestly feared that he would never see his son again. He knew how dangerous the Hood could be, and was quite honestly surprised – although very relieved – that he hadn't just killed Scott. He felt sick to his stomach when he'd seen the two pictures, wondering and worrying what his two sons had been put through.

Now he would have some idea, as soon as he could talk to Scott about it. Jeff, John, and Virgil were all flying out to meet Scott. Gordon had opted staying behind in New York. He'd badly wanted to see his brother, of course, but had allowed John and Virgil to go. Somehow Jeff had a feeling Gordon knew something Jeff didn't. Someone had to stay behind in case Alan was found.

The CIA had dug through some files and found out that there was a possibility that Belagant Trangh had started using his first name as his last name. It was discovered that a jet had been rented by someone named Patricia Trangh – someone who they suspected to be a known associate of the Hood. They had flown out to the residence, hoping to find Alan or at the very least, a lead on Alan.

Jeff Tracy entered the hospital, praying that Scott was okay. He knew that his son was alive, but he didn't know anything other than that. Two strangers had found him on the side of the road, tied up and dumped in the bushes. Jeff couldn't help but wonder what had happened. Had the Hood dumped him and left him for dead? It seemed likely, given the scenario, but they wouldn't know until they were able to talk to Scott.

The possibilities were endless, and they were all drumming through Jeff's head, one thought at a time.

"Dad," Virgil said, as he brushed against the door. "Scott's awake."

Jeff Tracy's heart leapt. It had been too long since he'd seen his son. "And?" he asked, seeing the worried look on his sons' face.

Virgil swallowed hard. "Do we know where John is? We need to get him here A.S.A.P. Scott thinks he's dead."

_Flashback_

_"Scott!" Virgil said. Scott was in the recovery room, and although his condition was stable, the nurses wanted only one family member in there at a time. John was changing the dressing on his arm and his father was resting in one of the hallway chairs, so it was Virgil's turn. _

_"Virgil," Scott said, breathing a sigh of relief. He was so grateful just to see one of his brothers... any one of his brothers. He'd take anyone right now. Scott glanced around the empty room before closing his eyes._

_Virgil, who was about to hit the emergency button and summon the nurses that Scott was awake, paused. "Scott?" he questioned. _

_Scott mumbled something under his breath and looked at Virgil, the look on his face asking Virgil to say, 'please tell me this isn't true.' "TheHoodsaidJohnisdead," he quickly mumbled again. _

_Virgil was too shocked to react. "What?" he asked after almost a minute of silence._

_Scott looked like he didn't want to say anything else but continued on. "I'm sorry, Virge...I tried, but I couldn't protect him..."_

_"You weren't even there," Virgil said, confused. He knew one thing: John needed to get his ass back here and fast. Why had he suggested his brother go and get a cup of coffee? _

_"Alan," Scott said with the shake of his head. "Mullion told me... said he'd kill.. Alan... and that it would be my fault!"_

_## end flashback ## _

Screw law enforcement justice. No, that wasn't good enough for the Hood. Now, Jeff Tracy wanted his own brand of justice. Something that would eternally punish the Hood and his powers that he used for evil.

As Jeff slowly rose, he paused one more time. "Virgil, tell me what else you aren't telling me before you get John, son."

Virgil closed his eyes. "He told me that something Mullion said leads him to believe that Alan is dead."

With that, Jeff Tracy felt his heart fall out of his chest.

## break ##

Alan Tracy felt sick in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't believe that this was happening to him. First, his brother John had died, trying to save him. He knew Virgil had been at the scene, as well. What had happened to Virgil? He swallowed hard, not able to erase the lump in his throat. Then, presumably because he'd protested, Scott was killed as well.

He couldn't help the tears that ran down his face. Two of his brothers had died trying to protect him, and here he was, still held captive in the hands of the Hood. After Mullion had returned, saying that Scott's body had been properly taken care of, the Hood had excused himself and said that they would need to arrange things for Alan's next transport. He'd drugged Alan during the transport so that the teenager couldn't fight back, not that Alan would anyway. He was too depressed. He'd already caused Scott and John too loose their life, he wouldn't risk Virgil's and Gordon's so that he could escape.

After Alan had been transported a second time, the Hood growled at his companion, and Mullion left, presumably acting upon some command. Alan didn't notice anything. He was emotionally and physically exhausted, and was terrified that the Hood would beat him again. The man had already shown that he wasn't afraid to resort to violence, when necessary.

"Don't you enjoy your new home?" the Hood asked as he and Alan had stepped out of the car. Robin, the Hood's wife, who Alan had only recently learned was also an escaped criminal, had traveled separately. She had noticed her picture out in the media and hadn't wanted the two of them to be spotted together. She had opted to travel to California by car, regardless of the fact the trip would take her three days from New York.

Alan didn't respond. He knew that if he did, the hurtful, obscene comments he was thinking would spill out, and he'd no doubt be punished. He learned that the Hood loved submission. Well, if it would keep him alive… Alan just swallowed hard and tried not to let his tears shed.

"Alan," the Hood responded, "I want to help you. I want to protect you from Jeff. He's an evil man, Alan, and I can see that you're still completely under his influence. Once you break free from that, we can get along great."

## break ##

Special FBI Agent, Leader of the Violent Crimes Squad, Don Eppes was riding home from work with his partner and long-time friend, FBI agent Colby Granger. Normally, Don would have returned to his father's house alone – scratch that, his brother's house – but a suspect (well, now a charged criminal) had blown up his FBI-issued car today. The FBI had promised to issue him a new car on Monday morning, but that wouldn't help him tonight. Luckily, Colby Granger had offered to drop him off on the way home.

"What a day," Colby muttered as he slid out of the car. The two agents had planned on watching a relaxing game of football with Don's father and brother. Little did they know that their plans would change in an instant.

"LET ME GO!" A voice screamed out. Don glanced at Colby, half tempted to let it go. It sounded like a young kid's voice, possibly someone who was in the middle of being dragged to bed by their parents. But that scenario didn't feel right to Don. The voice echoed again, this time with a scream.

"Shit," Don muttered, his hand on his weapon as he moved through the pitch-black night.

## break ##

Alan Tracy hadn't planned on resisting again. There had nobody outside in the dark night, nobody visible, anyway. After his last attempt to resist had gone so badly, he'd tried to shove the hurt down that the Hood had caused, and bury it. He couldn't afford to let anyone get hurt again on his behalf.

But then he'd seen the government-issued vehicle pull into the parking lot. He'd spent a long time with Parker, going over the different government issued weapons, cars, and other things Parker somehow knew a lot about. Despite being born in the United Kingdom, Parker knew a _lot_ about the American police officers – probably from him trying to evade him so many times.

It was then when he decided to make a scene. He wasn't going to give up without a fight.

"Let me go!" he said, trying to struggle against the Hood. The Hood, who had by this time begun to watch the FBI officers make their decent onto his rental property, knew he had to do something. He grabbed Alan by his legs and swung him head-first into the house.

Alan Tracy cried, and closed his eyes. The pain was too great.

Then, before he knew what else was happening, the Hood had his arms wrapped around his neck and had a gun he'd pulled from somewhere pointed at his head.

Two fully-clothed FBI officers made their decent onto the Hood's property, not even bothering to make pretenses. "Let him go!" the first man's voice rang out.

"Never!" the Hood responded. He waved his gun, and if it had been lighter, and Alan had been conscious, he would have seen one of the FBI agents flinch as the trigger sounded. "I'll kill myself _and_ him before I do that!"

## break ##

Okay, how long should I let you wait and worry over this cliffhanger? Seriously, hope you enjoy. Here is your challenge: Assuming the FBI agents rescue Alan, will they believe he's Alan Trangh or dig to the truth and find out that he is indeed Alan Tracy?


	12. A Whisper Of A Memory

A/N: Wasn't going to update until Monday, but had some free time today, so why not? Please R&R. For those of you who haven't noticed, this is a brief - but very brief - crossover with numb3rs; the guest-star FBI agents. Hope this chapter answers some of your questions!

## break ##

He didn't feel very good. That was the first thing Scott Tracy noticed as he awoke the second time. He felt, actually, like shit. He swallowed hard as he looked around the room, and there, on the side of the couch, was his younger brother, John.

Scott sucked in a breath. He briefly remembered Virgil telling him that John was alive, but he hadn't wanted to get his hopes up without actually seeing him.

John snapped up, his head bobbing up as he looked at Scott. "Scott!" he said, embracing his older brother instantly. He'd heard Virgil say what Scott had said, that Scott had thought he was dead, and was kicking himself for not being near the room when Scott had woken up.

"John," Scott said, breathing a sigh of relief as he wholeheartedly embraced his brother. He could believe it now; John was alive. He couldn't wait to tell Alan that. Scott swallowed hard, a lump dissolving in his throat. Maybe Mullion _wasn't_ telling the truth. He couldn't be. The Hood had been adamant about wanting Alan as his child; why would he turn around all his hard work and kill Alan? No, he'd leave him alive. Scott breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry, Scott," John said. He meant it, too. After a minute, Scott was able to release John from his grasp and breathe a little easier.

"It's not your fault," Scott said. He guessed what John was blaming himself for – the same thing that Scott was blaming himself for, probably.

"But I couldn't save you or Alan!" John responded. He swallowed hard, trying not to release the emotions that threatened to build. "I was right there, within inches of saving you and Alan…"

"And you were shot because of it," Scott responded. "Alan told me, John. We don't blame you. The Hood is a vicious, evil, son-of-a-b…"

"Scott Carpenter Tracy!" Jeff said, snapping his eldest out of what as he was about to say. "You're awake," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. He embraced his son with a hug, and gratefully relished in the fact that one of his sons was alive.

Jeff and John sank to the couch. "Are there any leads on Alan, Dad?" Scott anxiously asked as a nurse came in, took his temperature, and left.

John looked at his father, who seemed to have aged ten years in the last two weeks. "Dad?" he asked, his voice barley auditable.

"There was one. We think we found the house he kept you at, Scott. We were hoping Alan would be there. But as soon as we got there, the house was clear and Alan was gone."

"He's been one step ahead of us the whole time," John muttered grimly.

Suddenly, Scott blinked into awareness. "Shit!" he exclaimed grimly, ignoring his father's warning look. "Dad, I think I figured out what the Hood was telling me."

## break ##

_"I can't believe this is working out so well!" the Hood said gleefully. He grinned as he taunted Scott. Scott eyed him warily as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "I found out some interesting news from my friend in the FBI." _

_"Your friend in the FBI?" Scott asked wearily. _

_The Hood smiled. "My other half-brother. He got adopted at a very young age. We have always kept in touch." He grinned. "I have received information from him that the FBI know of our location. So, sorry, Scotty-boy, but you've got to go. I think Alan and I would be much less suspicious as we travel if you did not tag along." _

## break ##

"Another half-brother who got adopted," Jeff muttered darkly. "That would explain why we were one step behind you the whole time. Did he give you any more information than that?"

Scott winced, feeling like he would disappoint his father once again. He flashed back to when he'd disappointed the Hood, and the Hood had almost beaten him to death. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself not to think about it.

"Thanks for the information, Scott. I'll follow up on it right away. John, will you please call Gordon and let him know Scott's awake?"

## break ##

Alan swallowed hard as he watched the Hood's gun waver. He had heard the Hood click the safety off the trigger and knew he was in danger now. He closed his eyes. Suddenly, two shots rang out and he was dropped to the ground.

"Check his pulse," one voice said to the other. A two-hundred pound FBI agent reached towards the body, and checked it.

Colby felt for a pulse. "Shit!" he swore as he looked at the body. "He's dead," he muttered as he shoved the body over. "Kid, you okay?" he asked, trying to see the kid in the dimly lit light.

It was dark in Southern California, and it was after eight o'clock at night. He knelt to the ground and did a brief assessment, as best as he could in the dim light. A very small trickle of blood ran down the kid's face from where he'd been hit. Colby dug a bandanna out of his pocket and placed it against the kid's head gently. "My name's Colby," he said, "FBI Agent Colby Granger. What's your name?"

Alan swallowed hard. He knew the Hood had members inside the FBI. _If for some reason I die – which I won't – I have people all over the FBI, Alan. I can and will get to you. Don't believe anything you hear_." Alan swallowed hard, again, not trusting his voice. Colby had already gently reached into Alan's pocket, spying the wallet with the falsified information that the Hood had given him.

Colby turned on his flashlight, reading the name on the birth certificate and social security number, comparing it with the fake identification that looked all too real. Alan Trangh. Alan could see the last name even from here. A tear slowly slid down his face. "Hey, hey, don't cry," Colby said, hastily. He embraced Alan in a hug.

"Colby, why don't you take him to the hospital?" Don suggested. He'd seen the terrified look on the kid's face. He pulled the identification information out of Colby's hands.

_Alan Trangh _

_Height 5'6 Weight 165_

_Eye color Blue _

_Hair color Blonde_

He skimmed over the other information before handing it back to Colby. "Identification says he's twelve?" Don asked, his voice in slight disbelief. It could be plausible, he supposed. "Anyway, the ID's match up. This is Ryan Trangh – the kid's dad, probably. Maybe his brother or something?" he added as a quizzical afterthought.

"Think he's got a mother?" Colby asked as he took the ID back from Don's grasp.

"We won't know that until we search the house. Normally I'd say ambulance, no question, but I think that you should go. Just stay with him at all times, 'kay?" Don asked. He couldn't explain why, but he felt that it was important not to let the kid out of the FBI's sight.

"You want me to go with him?" Colby asked. He gently set Alan down, saying, "Just a second, kid," before stepping off with Don. "Don, I killed his father! The kid's going to hate me –"

"Colby, the kid's father, if that's even what he was, took the kid and slammed him into the house, head-first. I don't think there will be too much of a loss, there," Don responded. "Just do it for me, please? I'll get David and Megan out here to clean up the crime scene."

_That _Colby could deal with. "Okay," he said as he turned back towards Alan, picking him up and gently lifting him into the black FBI-issued SUV.

## break ##

Alan heard voices. Voices that faded in and out. He heard the beep, beep, beep of the machine. He groaned as he awoke. He tried to remember his last name. Nothing came to mind. He slowly raised his hand up, seeing the hospital bracelet that read Alan Trangh. The name, 'Trangh', didn't feel right to Alan.

He sighed as he touched his bracelet. With that, the figure beside his bed moved. "You're awake," he said, handing the teen some ice chips.

Alan accepted them gratefully. "You're not my father, right?" he asked, quietly. For some reason he had been accepting a happy reunion between father and son. He shoved the wish down.

The doctor frowned as she came in, checking Alan's vital signs. "Alan, this is FBI agent Colby Granger," she responded. "He's the one who brought you to us yesterday. Can you tell me what you remember last night?"

Raised voices? Maybe? Shouting, for sure. But was that even last night? And if it was, who was the shouting directed at? "It's a blur," he responded.

Colby Granger looked at the woman in question.

"Amnesia is usually common with blunt force trauma," she responded. "Can you tell me your last name?"

"I know my first name is Alan," he responded. He fingered his bracelet carefully. "And my last name is Trangh, I guess," he added. "But it doesn't feel right."

Colby exchanged a glance with the nurse. "It was on your identification that was in your pocket," Colby responded.

"I'll let you talk to him, Agent Granger. He should be fine to go later this afternoon, since he has been held overnight for observation. I'll get the doctor to sign off on him."

"Thanks, I think," Colby told the doctor's retreating form. He sighed as he closed his eyes. _How do I tell the kid I shot his father? _

Suddenly, a name hit Alan in a flash. "Ryan," he said suddenly. "I'm not going back with him. I can't!" he said. He shrunk back against the blanket and hospital pillow in fear.

Colby swallowed hard. "Alan," he said, "Ryan Trangh is dead. I shot him last night because he held a gun to your head and wouldn't let go."

"Oh," Alan said in a flat voice.

Now what?

"Was he your father?" Colby pressed carefully.

"I don't know," Alan said. He let out a whine. "I don't really know." Suddenly, the thought that he didn't know who he was hit him like a tidal force. He may have been out of his father's hands - was the man even his father? He couldn't remember! - but now he didn't remember anything. "I don't remember who I am!" he swallowed hard and glanced at Colby, hoping somehow that the FBI agent would have the answers.

"It'll come back, in time," Colby said, trying to be reassuring.

"Yeah, but what about until then?" One memory returned to Alan in a flash. "I can't live with my dad, so what will happen?"

"Until you get your memory back, we'll take care of you," Colby said, trying to be reassuring, "we always take care of our own."

_Shit_, Colby thought, grimly, _now what?_

## break ##

A/N: Well, _we_ know that the FBI agents are the good guys. But will Alan trust them? And will Alan be able to get his memory back?


	13. A Brother Who Likes Pepsi, Maybe

A/N: Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter. 1,984 words! Should keep you busy for... well, however long it takes you to read that many words. Enjoy.

## break ##

Alan seemed to be doing okay, even if he was distressed about his missing memory. While Colby had slept at the hospital with Alan Trangh, Megan, David, and Don had pulled an all-nighter at the FBI office. Megan, always an expert at information, tried to pull up information on Ryan Trangh. There was next to nothing, except information about the house he'd just purchased. The search had proven fruitless and, despite David and Don's best attempts, there had been little to go on.

"Charlie!" Don called, setting the papers down on the table.

"What's up?" Charlie asked. Alan maybe-or-maybe not Trangh bounded into the kitchen, following Don.

"Alan, this is my brother, Charlie," Don said. Alan smiled sheepishly before hiding under Don's leg. "Charlie, this is Alan."

"Welcome, Alan," Charlie responded as he nodded towards the teenager. He agreed with Don upon first assessment. Twelve seemed too young for the teenager – he seemed to be older than that. He'd heard the story when Don had come home for ten minutes the previous night. Colby had agreed to stay at the hospital overnight with Alan.

"Do you want something to eat?" Don asked. "I think Dad has some leftovers in the fridge."

"I can make something," Charlie offered, half-offended, half-relieved that Don hadn't offered.

"Sure, Charlie can make something, too," Don replied, "If you don't mind it tasting like shoe leather." He shot a grin at Alan, and Alan relaxed just a little bit. For some reason, the stage felt familiar.

"I heard that!" Charlie called from the kitchen. "And my cooking does _not_ taste like shoe leather - only my steaks do!"

A slow smile passed through Alan's face for the first time since Don had known him. "I think," he said quietly, "that I have a brother."

"A brother?" Don asked. He had been able to drop Alan off at his house because the FBI was getting ready to clean out the house right next door for leads on information. They knew that Alan's father – if that's who the man even was; Don had his doubts – had planned on living there. "Do you know a name, age, anything like that?" _Okay, so that was a dumb question – it should have been, do you remember… _

Hey, at least this would give them something to go on. Something just didn't feel right about the whole scenario. Whatever happened, Don would be glad when – not if – when Alan got his memory back.

"Older," Alan said. Just as soon as the flash of memory came, it had gone. "He likes Pepsi," Alan added suddenly, unsure why that was important or significant.

Don scribbled in his notebook, _probable older brother, likes Pepsi._ "Anything else?" he asked.

"I think he might know how to fly?" Alan responded quietly. He wasn't sure why that was important or significant, either. Great, he had an older brother and all he could remember was that the man liked Pepsi? _Whoopti-Do._

He must have said his thoughts about the fact that the fact that his older brother liked Pepsi wasn't very useful outloud because Don responded, "Hey, every little bit helps."

## break ##

After a days' time, Scott was allowed out of the hospital. He'd been mostly fine, with primarily internal injuries. Jeff had wanted him to rest overnight before heading back to New York, where Gordon was. Gordon sighed. It was 2 weeks since Alan had gone missing, and he couldn't wait to see Scott again. He couldn't wait to see Alan again, either. He really, really missed the kid, especially since he felt like the kid's said abduction was his fault.

Gordon was exhausted both emotionally and physically when he got the phone call. He almost hadn't answered it. He had planned on swimming a few laps, and going straight to bed. But it was his friend from the FBI office department that he rarely talked too, David Sinclair. David was a good ten years older than he was, but had met him through the WASP program. They'd kept in touch ever since.

"Hey, Sinclair," Gordon Tracy said, checking the time on his watch. It read 9:00 Island Time, which meant that David would be calling from about 12:00 P.M. California time. "What's up, and why the call so late?"

"Oh, you know, one of those long, hard-ass days at work," David responded. Gordon got the feeling that he was trying to be deliberately vague. "Just now got away. Listen, I wanted to ask you… Are you missing a kid brother?"

"What?" Gordon's heart skipped a beat. _Was he missing a kid brother_? Did Donald Trump have a bad haircut? Yes, he was missing a kid brother, and he wasn't very happy about it! "Yeah, Alan's missing… he's been missing here for a week now, no, more than a week; why?" Had it really been just a little over a week and a half since his younger brother had gone missing, they'd seen that terrible video of Scott and Alan being abducted, and… Gordon swallowed hard, remembering the conversation he'd had with Scott on the vid-phone earlier.

"_I'm so sorry, Scott!" Gordon said. He wished he could embrace his brother in a hug, and see for himself that Scott was really alright. He'd heard that Scott was alive from Virgil earlier, and that in itself was a huge relief, but he couldn't wait to see for himself that his brother was alright. He wanted, admittedly, to hear from Scott that it wasn't his fault that he and Alan were kidnapped._

"_For what, Gordon?" Scott said. Gordon sighed, knowing that Scott would probably have picked the information if he'd been feeling better._

"_For getting you and Alan kidnapped!" Gordon blurted out. He swallowed hard, sure that even Scott saw the lump in his throat._

"_How is that even your fault?" Scott asked, his mouth dropping open._

"_I was the one who needed the midnight rescue one! I probably played right into the Hood's hands, and… led you right into the Hood's path!" _

"_Nonsense, Gordon," Scott said firmly. Gordon swallowed hard, hoping that at some day he could believe that himself. "Look, the Hood wanted to kidnap Alan and would have stopped at nothing to do so. At least this way, I was with Alan for awhile and was able to protect him somewhat. You have nothing to blame yourself for, Gordon." _

"_I guess," Gordon said, still not convinced. He swallowed hard and settled for changing the subject. He didn't really want to talk about this anymore, anyway.  
><em>

"Look, anyway, we have a kid who reminds me of Alan the one time I met him," David said. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in flying up and visiting him?"

"Yeah," Gordon said before pausing. "You obviously have something else, so just come out with it."

"We were originally stumped on leads because the kid's identification says that he's Alan Trangh," David explained. "We have someone who is claiming to be Trangh's relative, but neither Don nor I believe that he is Alan's relative. However, he does have some identifying information that could put him in Alan's care. Don's not willing to let him go yet. But anyway, if you want to come see if this kid is his brother…"

"I'll be there in less than two hours," Gordon promised as he hung up the phone and logged a flight plan, an uneasy feeling in his gut.

## break ##

"He doesn't look familiar to me," Alan said in a passive voice, a pseudo whisper if you will, to Colby as he looked at the man through the window. He winced. "No, wait, he does look familiar. I don't know!" he said as he threw up his hands in exasperation and sank down to the bench.

"Hey, it's okay," Colby responded. "Look, don't try and force the memory, okay? It will come naturally, eventually."

"I'm sure," Alan said as he sank into his seat. At least Don's father had said he could stay with him until he regained his memory. Ironically, his name was also Alan.

"Hey, why don't you go wait with Megan in the conference room?" Colby said, waving that direction. "Charlie! Hey, Charlie!" he said, trying to get the math man's attention. Alan smiled at the scene. That reminded him of all the times Scott had tried to help John with his math…

John! He had another name. Was he John? No, his name was obviously Alan; that's what it had said on the ID. Was his brother's name John, or was it one of his friends? Or his brother's friends? Alan swallowed hard. He couldn't think, and he didn't feel well. He slowly made his way to the conference room and sank down to the chair.

"Alan!" a voice said, causing Alan to turn his head. The man looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn't place him. Within seconds, the twenty-something redhead was over by his side.

"We have to take you in the conference room first," Don said, striding over towards Alan protectively. He didn't know why he felt the need to protect the kid so strongly, but the need was there. It was probably because Colby had shot the kid's father (if Ryan Trangh was even the man's father - Don had his doubts), and there was someone else claiming to be related to Alan in another conference room. Plus, why on earth had this guy waited almost a day and a half to come forward with the fact that his brother was the said victim?

"He's my brother," the man responded as he pointed at Alan. "Alan. Alan Tracy."

"Really?" Don said, his eyebrow raising. He wasn't stupid, he knew the name. However, he also knew that there was another guy who was also in there claiming to be Alan's brother or half-brother or something – he couldn't remember.

"Yes," the man said. "I'm sorry. I'm Gordon. Gordon Tracy," he said, sticking out his hand.

Don shook it. "Let's go to the conference room," he said.

Colby Granger winced as Don Eppes and Gordon Tracy went into the conference room. "Shit," he muttered, using the expletive that only halfway described how he was feeling.

"What's up?" David asked, pausing from his papers. If Gordon said that this was his brother Alan, David believed him, but also knew they'd need to see the proof for Don, if nobody else.

"I know where I recognized that guy," Colby said as he pointed in the room. "Do you remember when that guy called the Hood got arrested last summer?"

"Robbing London banks with the Thunderbird technology, yeah. Why?"

"That," Colby said, pointing with deadly accuracy at the man, "was his sidekick, the one and only, Mullion."

"Damn," David said. He glanced at Colby. "You're sure about this?"

"Fingerprints don't lie," Colby said as he showed David the papers. "How often do we get to make an arrest _in the FBI_ office?"

"Not that often, and we might not now, either," David said. He held up his gun, startling Colby, who dropped the fingerprint papers and moved towards the glass room. "Drop the gun now, Mullion!"

## break ##

A/N: So, your challenge: What is Mullion going to try? Will Alan get his memory back? And will Don believe Gordon's story?


	14. Bullets and Memories

A/N: Wow, it is an update! Yes, I'm still breathing! Okay, seriously, I hope you enjoy. Well, that may not be the right word. But anyway...

* * *

><p>Alan Tracy felt sick to his stomach as he was roughly tossed to the floor. Colby, in an attempt to save Alan, had knocked him brutally to the floor. Alan gave out a brief cry of pain as he toppled to meet the cement floor. Luckily, Colby had knocked him down more gently than he might have knocked down a hardened criminal. "Drop that gun or I'll be forced to shoot!" David shouted, not even wanting to bother with the warning. He knew, however, that if he didn't scream the warning, he would have to fill out a lot more paperwork later.<p>

Mullion ignored David's warning and fired at Colby. If Colby hadn't knocked Alan down, the bullet would have grazed Alan. As it was, the bullet launched itself into Colby's shoulder, making the hardened FBI agent grunt in pain.

David aimed for Mullion's arm, but missed. Mullion turned and fired at David, who ducked. Don had taken the time to shove Gordon out of the path of the gun. The entire building was currently being evacuated; someone had hit the emergency alarm.

Don, seeing Mullion take aim for Colby again, fired. The man was knocked down instantly, clutching his heart as he toppled to the ground. Don didn't hesitate as he darted over, his black shoes clinking on the white, now unpolished floor. He swore softly as he checked his pulse. "Dead," he muttered.

Colby had lifted himself off Alan and took the opportunity to prop himself against the glass wall of the FBI bull pen. Even though the shot had only been to Colby's arm, he was still breathing heavily and his face was slowly starting to turn white. The vividly red blood trickled down Colby's arm, making his blue shirt turn a nauseating color. "I need a first aid kit!" Don yelled. "Damn it, David, where the hell is LAPD? I need an EMT here, like stat!"

"It's just an arm," Colby said, but Don knew his friend and team member was in pain. For an arm shot, this was going to hurt like a son of a bitch. David returned with a first-aid kit and assisted Don in wrapping the bandage around Colby's arm.

"Alan!" Gordon said as he ran towards his brother. Even though Colby had knocked Alan down in attempt to save his life, he had still hurt Alan's arm; a new red scrape appeared right under Alan's black brace. "I need any type of wrap you got," he said, nodding towards the first aid kit as he looked at the arm.

"Let me help," Don said as he made his way over. David was covering Colby's arm with the bandage and was waiting until Colby could catch his breath enough to walk down the stairs, where there would be – hopefully – an EMT waiting.

"Alan, are you okay?" Gordon responded as he wrapped the brown bandage around his brothers' arm.

Alan swallowed hard as he looked at his brother, too lost in a flashback to comprehend what was going on.

_Flashback_

"_Gordon!" a younger boy said, embracing his arms around his older brother. "Gordon! He hurted me!"_

"_Who, Alan?" Gordon said with a dark look on his face. "Who hurt you?" _

_Alan sniffled and buried his head in his older brothers' shoulder. Only seven at the time, being slapped was excruciatingly painful. "He said he'd hurt you if I told anyone," he said, a tear running down his face._

_Gordon's face darkened. "Alan, I need to know what's going on. Please, I can protect myself. Just tell me." _

_It was then when the man in question came around the corner. Alan shrank back further into Gordon's shirt, trying not to look at the man._

_Matthews smiled down at him. "Alan! I'm so upset that you ran away from me when you bumped into the table," he said, looking at Gordon as if he were the scum on the earth. "The lies children tell, you know," he said, using a handkerchief to remove the sweat off of his brow. _

"_No, I don't know," Gordon said. His voice became icy cold. With Scott gone on vacation, and Virgil and John gone for a playground trip, Gordon was the only one older than Alan at the house. "Perhaps you should inform me," he added, looking at the man darkly._

"_Fine, maybe I will." Matthews shoved Alan out of Gordon's hands, causing the seven-year-old to fall to the floor. He grabbed Gordon by the wrist and dragged him to the closet. Gordon swore softly as he heard the lock click. He didn't even know that this closet had locks._

"_Hey, let me out!" Gordon said, realizing that the 'man in question' that Alan must have mentioned was Matthews. "You can't do this to me – let me out of here!" _

End flashback

"I know you," Alan said suddenly, eyeing his brother. "You were trying to protect me," he added, "and you got shoved into a closet."

Gordon blinked at Alan, looking at the teenager as if he had three heads. Then suddenly it hit him. "You mean Matthews," he said with a knowing nod. "He was our babysitter for a week when you were seven," he added, seeing Alan's blank look. "Come on, here, let's get up." He glanced at Don. "Uh," he said.

David looked at Don. "Remember how I told you I had a friend who was in WASP, and how I mentioned that he had a younger brother who was missing and was coming down? This was him. Gordon. Gordon Tracy," he added, the emphasis on the name Tracy.

Don stared at him blankly. "I believe you, but I don't read People," he said, knowing David was putting an emphasis on the man's last name for a reason.

"Jeff Tracy is the owner of Tracy Enterprises. I've met Alan once, that's why I thought he was so familiar; Gordon is his brother. He has four brothers," David responded. He glanced at Colby, who had regained a little composure in his face. "Come on. Let's take this outside, where there isn't more risk of bullets."

"Not so fast," another man said. He was wearing an FBI uniform, and he might have looked friendly enough under other circumstances. The gun in his hand, however, was anything but pleasant. "None of you are going anywhere until I say so."

"What the hell, Mike?" Don responded. He had read Mike's record review himself because he was worried about things that were going on in Mike's life. He had been worried that they were going to be affecting him as an FBI agent. It appeared that he was right.

Mike chuckled as Don reached for his gun. "Not so fast, Eppes. I know how these things work. I also know that little Granger over there is bleeding, and you'll want to get him out as soon as possible. And you probably wouldn't want me to hurt the two Tracy heirs, right?" he added with a smirk at Alan.

Gordon stood protectively in front of his brother, praying the madman wouldn't take a shot.

"Alright, alright," Don said, raising his hands in the air to show Mike he wasn't a threat. "Let's just keep this calm, shall we?"

* * *

><p>Jeff Tracy was not happy. They had checked Scott out of the hospital, and he was recuperating at the hotel. He hadn't wanted Scott to travel with his injuries. Gordon, who had promised to check in every twenty-four hours, had not. He sighed as he glared at his red Blackberry, as if it would magically tell him the answers. He glanced at Virgil. "Check your phone and see if you have any messages from Gordon," he responded.<p>

Virgil hit play. There was one message from his friend in Toledo, and another message from some company advertising something. Other than that, nothing. "Not a thing," Virgil responded with a frown.

"Already on it, Dad," John said as he booted up his own cell phone, which he had off because he didn't want to be interrupted while he was spending time with Scott. "Nothing," he muttered.

"I'm calling Ann-Marie," Jeff announced. If the boys weren't able to get in touch with Jeff, for any reason, they were instructed to call Ann-Marie.

The news was the same. "Nothing," Jeff muttered as he leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. "Crud," he muttered, "why do I feel like this is going to be a bad thing?"

* * *

><p>The memory that Alan recalled is from <em>Home Turf<em>, a FanFiction piece that I have written and completed. It was a 'missing scene', so to speak. If you haven't checked out Home Turf yet, I ask you, why not? Go read it while you wait. And if you haven't done so already, go check out '96 hours until sold', my other in-progress Thunderbird Fic.

Okay, enough shameless self promotion. Who's going to get hurt because of the FBI informant?


	15. Just The Genesis

A/N: Gasp, it is an update! Take that! ;-) Enjoy!

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><p>The man gestured towards his gun to Don, making him back off. This made the man sneer happily. "You FBI agents think you're all so in control," he said with a happy smirk. "But you're not. You know why? You let the people with the weapons control you." He grinned happily as he diverted his attention from Don and turned to Colby.<p>

Colby had recovered a little bit from the wound, but he still looked awful, and Don knew his friend needed medical attention. "You have rules and laws that you're supposed to follow. I don't have any." He sneered and grinned.

_Yes, _Don thought, itching to grab the gun and just shoot the man, _but our laws still say we should shoot you if we have no other options. _

"You," he said, motioning towards Gordon, "Sit down." And with that, he fired. The bullet lodged itself in Gordon's arm, missing Gordon's chest by mere inches. Gordon winced and clutched his arm, dropping to the ground, still in front of Alan.

Two shots rang out, and the man dropped to the ground. Megan, who had heard enough to know that Mike knew about his rights and had been warned, had seen him fire at Gordon. She'd also seen him about to aim for Alan. He toppled to the ground, clutching his arm in agony.

"EMS are waiting outside," Megan said as she glanced at Colby and Gordon. "I will call a second one for you. David, can you help Colby downstairs?" Don had already begun to work on Gordon's arm. The bad guy had only just been grazed, and could receive medical attention from any doctor.

"Gordon!" Alan said, leaping towards his brother protectively. As David started helping Colby downstairs, Megan handcuffed Mike and read him his rights before turning to Alan and Gordon.

"I'm sorry for not believing you at first," Don said as he wrapped Gordon's arm with an ACE bandage – all they could really do until medical help arrived. Virgil had been trained in more first aid than some of them had. Of course, this was also due to Virgil's excessive interest in first aid. "I will still need to interview you later, though."

"It's okay," Gordon said, wincing through the pain as he looked at Alan. "I'm sorry we weren't there when you were found."

Alan blinked twice. "You were taking care of Scott, right? He drinks pepsi?"

Gordon smiled. Trust that to be the one detail that Alan remembered. He closed his eyes, thinking they'd have to interview Alan eventually to figure out what happened. "What happened to the Hood?" he asked. Maybe he had been told, maybe not. He couldn't remember. "He was using the alias Ryan Trangh," he added. Megan, who had escorted Mike to his awaiting police car, came back to inform Don that Gordon's ambulance was there.

No matter how heavy the traffic was on the 110 in LA, the LAPD moved fast.

"He's dead," Don said bluntly as he tied Gordon's arm to secure it for transport. A thought occurred to him. "He's not really Alan's father, is he?"

Alan winced at the question, and looked at Gordon expectantly. It took Gordon a second to respond, his mouth agape. Virgil had been right – the Hood really _had _tried to make Alan his son. "No," he said, still trying to process the information. He glanced up at Don as he tried to steady his foot. "If you come with me, we can just do the interview then. One of us can call our father, and he can come up with all the information."

Don nodded, watching Alan's reaction to that news. Alan looked relieved. _Probably because he didn't have a psychopath father to deal with, _Don thought. He had never met Mr. Tracy before. According to David (who apparently actively read People) Mr. Tracy was someone important. Could be interesting.

* * *

><p>Jeff Tracy was pacing in his office. They were contemplating flying back to the island today. Or at least, he was thinking about it. Although Scott was doing okay here, he was well enough to travel and looked like he could use some in-depth rest. John's wound was healing, but Jeff knew that Virgil could provide better care for it on the island.<p>

But he still hadn't heard from Gordon (_where on earth had Gordon gone too_?), and he wasn't about to make a decision without hearing from him. He also knew his boys were reluctant to return without hearing about what had happened to Alan. He was as well. He was eternally grateful to Kyrano and Ohana, who were maintaining the upkeep of the island. He would really have to see about raising their salaries.

It was then when his phone rang, the display showing Gordon's number. Jeff breathed a sigh of relief and opened the vid-phone instantly. It was close to 42 hours since he'd heard from his youngest, and he was _really _worried. It was not like his youngest. Making a mental note to blast Gordon out, Jeff picked up the phone. He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted Gordon to have a good excuse for this.

Jeff's anxiety grew when he saw the person who was on the other line – it was not Gordon. "This is Jeff Tracy," he said, trying his best to control his worry.

"Mr. Tracy, this is Don Eppes." It was then when Jeff realized that the man was wearing an FBI vest. He wasn't sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. "Do you have sons named Gordon and Alan?"

_Was the sky blue_? Why was the man asking that question? It took Jeff a second to realize that the FBI agent had asked about Alan. "Yes. Yes, I do. Have you…" _has something happened_? He thought, his heart sinking in his chest. It had to have, otherwise why would an FBI agent be talking to him?

"We have found Alan Tracy," Don Eppes began. Jeff let out a breath of relief, and then a worried thought hit him – was he alive? As if knowing the impact of his words, Don spoke up. "Yes, Mr. Tracy. We have found him alive. I am sorry that we did not notify you instantly – I will explain what happened when you arrive. Gordon Tracy had originally flown out to visit, and I was unsure if he had notified you of anything. Alan is fine, but Gordon is in the hospital right now with a gunshot wound."

Jeff Tracy swallowed hard. That was not what he wanted to hear. Wait a minute. What had happened for Gordon to get that injury? "How bad is he?"

"He will be fine," the FBI man responded, "he was shot in the arm. I am going to have to ask to see some identifying information about Alan, though. He had an identification card on him that did not state that his last name was Tracy, and there were two other people that were claiming to be related to him. If you could get to us soon…"

"Of course," Jeff responded, and then set the plans.

* * *

><p>John Tracy sighed as he watched his older brother, Scott. He was staring out at the vast, blue sky, as if he could miraculously find answers. John sighed as he adjusted the blue sling that the doctor had asked he wear and moved toward Scott. "Hey," he said softly, gently putting his hand on Scott's shoulder.<p>

"Hey," Scott said, glancing up at John. He exhaled slowly. "Any news?"

"Nothing," John said. He offered a loose smile. "Nothing from Gordon, either," he said with a tired sigh. "If he doesn't check in soon, Dad will have to call the CIA again."

Scott grinned in response to that, hoping against hope that Gordon hadn't met against unfriendly forces. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the glass. "I'm just really, really tired," he admitted.

"I know," John responded. "Maybe you should get some rest?" he offered tentatively, knowing how much Scott hated things being suggested to him.

"I would, but I just can't stop thinking about Alan."

"I know," John said. He, too, felt the familiar pang in his heart for his younger brother. "But you did everything you could, Scott," he said, seeing the look on his brother's face darken slightly. Anyone else might have missed it, but John had always been able to read his brother well.

"I guess," Scott said. He turned away from the window and turned to face his brother. "But what if it's not enough?"

It was then when they heard an anxious voice calling to them. John turned instantly, facing Virgil.

"Guys! Guys! We have to fire up Tracy One. Alan and Gordon have been found! Alan's okay!"

* * *

><p>AN: Of course, it's not over yet... There's still a lot of water under the bridge and a lot of recovery to happen...

So what happens next?


	16. Home, And Not Quite Free

Thanks to everyone for hanging in there and waiting. A special thanks to emilyjayden101 who kept reminding me to update Rough Landings as well. Enjoy this chapter!

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><p>"DAD!" Alan screamed, running towards his father. He embraced his father within the first two seconds that he saw him. Alan's shoes, which had gotten Gordon's blood on them in the shooting, had disappeared. Colby Granger, who had been shot, but not as bad as Gordon, had simply been "patched up" on the ambulance. Since he'd refused to go home, Don had ordered him to take care of Alan and Gordon.<p>

"Mr. Tracy," Colby said, nodding towards Alan. "I see he's yours."

"Yes," Jeff said, hugging his son again. "Thank you so much, officer…" he frowned. "Where is Gordon?"

Alan took that minute to find his socks extremely interesting. Colby had talked to him in the minutes after the gunfight and knew that Alan felt guilty for what happened. It sounded like he would need counseling, but while Colby could recommend that he get it, he wasn't sure he would.

From what he heard, Jeff sounded like a good guy. "Gordon is in the hospital," Colby responded. "He was trying to protect Alan from an assailant that had entered the area, and he was shot because of it."

Jeff spied the wound, still fresh on Colby's shoulder, and his eyes lightened ever so slightly. "Is that what happened to yours, too?"

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable – after all, he'd never really had any father to look after him – Colby nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Thanks," Jeff said. He looked absolutely exhausted. Colby didn't blame him. On his cell phone in the hospital – yes, he was breaking the rules and he knew it – he'd read into the Alan Tracy case. He didn't blame Jeff for being overwhelmed.

He glanced at Alan, and then back at Jeff. "I'm sorry. We've had some people claiming to be Alan's father, besides you, and while I know you're his father, I need to see the documents you brought with me, and to hear your story." He bit his tongue, half expecting to be lashed out at. He wouldn't have blamed the man.

Jeff Tracy just nodded wearily. "Right here is fine," he said, gesturing to the hallway. Alan's eyes lit up at the scene of some men behind him – his brothers, he guessed; Colby had read that he'd had five brothers, one of which had also been abducted recently, but had been rescued. Scott something.

"SCOTT!" Alan yelled, racing towards his eldest brother and embracing him. Colby grinned. Even though he had to do this interview for professional reasons – to cover his own ass from Don's wrath – he knew that Jeff Tracy was Alan Tracy's father.

There had never really been any doubt.

## break ##

The flight to Tracy Island felt incredibly long to Alan, who just wanted to see his home again. Scott, too, was antsy. After all, it had been nearly two weeks since the boys had seen their home, and Virgil knew that they would surely want to go back to it. And they had fought hard to get there. When Scott had been "freed", as he called it, from the hospital, he'd been worried sick about Alan. Mullion had basically threatened Alan's life, and had made sure that Scott knew who was in charge of his younger brother now.

It hadn't left Scott with a good feeling in his gut, but then again, it wasn't intended too.

"I can't believe I'm home." The other three brothers had left Scott and Alan alone for a minute, knowing that the two wanted to talk. Gordon had been allowed out of the hospital that night, despite the fact the doctor had wanted to keep him overnight. Virgil had debated with the doctor and had said they'd take care of Gordon if the doctor would simply release him tonight.

Since the Tracy family hadn't been together since Alan and Scott's abduction, the doctor had agreed, under the condition that Virgil keep a strong lookout for both him and Alan.

Virgil had readily agreed.

"I can't believe you're home, either." The two boys moved from the sunroom window to the bench that overlooked Tracy Island. Alan leaned on Scott's shoulder. He looked exhausted, but he was determined to stay up and have dinner that night with his family. Scott decided to go ahead and voice his fears. "Mullion seemed so sure that he was going to kill you when he dumped me. I wanted to get back and help you, but I couldn't. I was left on the side of the road."

"I know, Scott." Tears pressed against Alan's eyes and he hugged Scott even tighter. The next few months would be a difficult journey for them all. "I'm g-glad you were there while I-I was," he whispered.

"Me, too," Scott said, surprised to find that he really did mean it. He hadn't been able to protect Alan very much. If anything, he'd probably only been the cause of more pain to Alan. But he hoped that he had been able to provide his brother some much needed comfort.

"Really?" Alan asked, stopping to stare up at his brother. Scott blinked.

"Yeah," he said, not really wanting to go into a lot of details, but not wanting to brush off his brother either. "Alan, I would have been worried sick about you while you were missing. At least I could be with you and know where you were. As it was, I was really worried sick when you got separated from me."

"You mean you don't hate me?" Alan whispered.

"I would never hate you, Alan. The whole event wasn't your fault, it was the Hood's. He's a psychopath, Alan – he's someone who hurts people only for money. And Alan," Scott added, "I am _not_ ashamed of you for being willing to say that you were the Hood's son. You aren't the Hood's son, you're Jeff Tracy's son. Being willing to admit that you would become his son probably helped save you in the long run – I have no doubt that he would have kept giving you pain until you said yes. Alan, I'm incredibly proud of you. You handled yourself remarkably well, and you got home safe. That's all that matters."

Alan embraced Scott in another hug, and that was where Virgil found them four hours later, when it was time for dinner. Both boys had drifted off to sleep.

The family still had battles to conquer, but soon, the boys would be back together.

And despite the Hood's destruction, the Thunderbirds would be ago.


	17. Almost Over

Alan Tracy was absolutely exhuasted... but it was worth it. Kyrano had cooked a wonderful "victory dinner", and the family had all gotten together to enjoy a meal for the first time since Alan had come home on winter break. Virgil had apologized for teasing Alan, saying that he hoped the teenager would not think too badly of him.

Alan had smiled, forgiven his brother, and reminded him that they all made mistakes.

Gordon, much despite his protests, was spending a lot of time in the medical bay. He still needed to recover from being shot, and he couldn't do that without a lot of resting. It gave him more ammunition to be angry with the Hood... who was dead.

He would never bother the Tracy family again. His conquest for success had actually been his downfall - he would never know success now. He wouldn't even know life now.

Robin, the Hood's "wife", had been tracked down by the Numb3rs team. She had been arrested on one count of child abuse and one count of kindapping, as well as several other outstanding charges. Scott had been happy to see her pay for the abuse she'd given Alan. Okay, so she hadn't broken Alan's arm like the Hood had, but she hadn't exactly been innocent, either. She'd been all too happy to lock Alan in the closet for punishment for Alan's 'crimes', as she had put it.

_What crime could a fourteen-year-old commit that was so bad that it warrented that?_

It wasn't until two days after Alan returned home that he got his first chance to really talk to his father. "Dad?" he asked, seeing his father in his office.

"Come in, Alan," Jeff said, greeting his son. He pushed away the paper, before glancing at his son. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Does something have to be wrong?" Alan teased. He then looked down at the ground, a bit emberassed. He really didn't want to bring up the conversation that he was about too, but he knew they had to have it.

"No, I'd actually rather it didn't." Jeff exhaled. "I'm glad you're safe, son." He paused, studying a spot on his desk he suddenly found excrutiatingly interesting. "Son, I wish that I could have found you sooner. When I first heard that you were missing..." Jeff let his words trail off.

"It's not your fault, Dad," Alan responded, feeling guilty for being the cause of his father's distress. And the situation wasn't about to get any easier. But they _had _to talk about this. Or at least, he did. "Dad, the Hood tried to make me his child."

He expected his father to erupt in fury - at him. Or to lash out; or to be surprised, or something. Alan wasn't expecting the response he got. Jeff slumped into the chair. "I know, son," he responded. "I'm sorry," he added. "When Scott was rescued, he told us what that..." Jeff let his words trail off once more before he continued. "What he did to you," he said.

Alan smiled, knowing the words his father probably wanted to say. "I just... he..." he refused to let the tears come through to his eyes. "Dad, he filled a bathtub of water. He asked me if I would agree to be his son. I told him no. He basically said that wouldn't work, and dragged me to the bathroom. He shoved my head underwater for what felt like an eternity. He let me up. 'Will you be my child?' He asked. Repeat the scene, for like, I don't even remember how many times."

He took a deep breath and studied the carpet once more. "I finally said yes, Dad... I finally said I would!" Alan couldn't help it, he burst into tears. It wasn't fair that he had to go through that.

Before he knew it, his father was over by his side, taking him gently by the arm and leading him to the couch that was by the other door. Ideal for when he worked into the office late at night and was too exhausted to make it to his own bed. "Son," he said, softly, "The Hood wanted to control you. I am _not _ashamed of you, you understand me? You did your best with what you had, and I'm extremely proud of you."

It was then when Alan knew, with his father's strong embrace, that he was finally home.

## break ##

Gordon was anxiously pacing the beach. He had finally been allowed out of medical bay by Virgil, much to his relief. He was not, however, allowed to go swimming for the next week, which he wished he could. He finally gave in and dropped down to the sand.

He really didn't get why Virgil wouldn't let him swim. Wouldn't salt water help cleanse his bullet wound? He sighed, knowing that his brother did, indeed, know best. It was more that Gordon wasn't happy with the medic's decision.

"Hey," Alan said, coming out and sitting next to his brother. He handed the twenty-year-old a bottle of water before briefly smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, other than the arm. Don't know why Virge won't let me go back into the pool." He took a swig of water. "You'd think the chlorine would help clean out the water."

"I really think I'm glad Virgil is the medic," Alan responded seriously. "Look, Gordon…"

Gordon sighed, wondering what he should say here. "Alan, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to say those things I did before the appearance. I just..."

"It's not your fault, Gordon," Alan responded. At Gordon's surprised look, Alan said, "Gordon, didn't Dad tell you? The Hood was somehow slipping stuff in your food, drugging you, and using the drug to help him control your mind. It's not your fault."

"Thanks, Alan," Gordon said. He gave Alan a grin. "I needed to hear that."

"And thanks for rescuing me, bro," Alan said seriously.

"Anytime," Gordon responded. Then he frowned. "On second thought, let's try not to make that too often. Explaining to dad why you were kidnapped and then getting shot is so not on the top of my to do list."

"Well, at least you can take that off your kick the bucket list, right?" Alan teased.

"I'm not sure it was ever on the top of my to do list in the first place," Gordon replied with a grin.

## break ##

"Alan!" Virgil exclaimed, bumping into the teen. "Sorry. Didn't see you."

"It's okay." Alan winced. "Sorry. My ribs are still a bit sore."

"They are?" Virgil checked his watch; they still had time before dinner. "Alrighty, then. Let's go check them out really quick."

"That's not what I meant!" Alan said, but followed his brother back to the medical room anyway. They had been bothering him.

Virgil glanced at the ugly bruise that dotted Alan's stomach. Colby Granger, the FBI agent, had actually caused some of the damage - although he'd been protecting Alan from the bullets, so he had an excuse. "I'm sorry for what I said before your rescue, little brother," Virgil said as he turned towards the medicine cabinet. "Dad showed me your report card - man, you sure showed us, huh?"

"You mean my last one?" Alan asked, wondering why on earth Virgil would have been impressed by it.

"Yeah. Come on, it's something to be proud of," Virgil said with a grin. "Even John couldn't get an A in Mr. Psych's chem class."

"John was the one who helped me with it," Alan replied, throughly confused.

"Yeah, he's better now. He wasn't so much at the time." Virgil opened a bottle of medicine and handed the tablets to Alan. "Do me one favor, brother?"

"Yeah, Virge?"

"Don't ever scare me like that again - ever!"


	18. A Real Member

John sighed as he made his way towards his youngest brother, who was sitting in the sand. It had been two weeks since Alan had been home and he still hadn't had the heart-to-heart that he had been hoping for.

Alan was still having night terrors, a direct result of being (he had been. Personally, John did not blame him for any of it. He was still terrified that they would lose Alan as well. That somehow, despite their security, someone would come back. That someone would kidnap his youngest brother. Still, he knew he had to fight the feelings. Sure, an enemy could come back. But they would deal with that when and if it happened. Thankfully, it hadn't happened yet.

"Alan?" John asked him careful, when he approached him. "Care if I sit down?"

His younger brother glanced at him. "No, go ahead."

"I wanted to say I was sorry," John said. "I wish that I could have taken your place. That you did not have to go through what you had to. That I did not put my foot in my mouth when I made fun you. I cannot take back the past, but I can apologize for what I did."

Alan stared at him. "You mean... You don't hate me?" he asked, almost afraid to get a real answer.

"Oh, God, no, Alan!" John said, horrified that his brother one think such a thing.

"It is just that you never said anything to me," Alan responded, "and I was afraid that, that, you agreed that I was worth nothing..." Alan allowed his voice to trail off.

"Alan," another voice said, "look at me."

Obediently, Alan turned. "What?" he asked hesitantly.

His four older brothers slowly filed into a line. "Alan," Gordon started, "What we said right before you were abducted was awful."

"It was totally out of line," Virgil agreed.

"Way, way, stupid," Scott added, shooting a look at the two. "We want to say that we're sorry, Alan. You shouldn't have had to had gone through what you did, and it sucked, but you got through it."

"I don't think I would have survived it," Gordon added. "Two weeks without my swimming pool? I don't think I could have managed."

John cuffed his younger brother on the back of the head.

"There is one thing that we would like to give you," Scott said. He offered the box to Alan. "Dad sent the memo out this morning."

Inside the box was a Thunderbird ring. "What... I..."

"Let's be honest, bro – you're a Thunderbird, true and true," Gordon responded. "It runs through your blood more so than water does through mine."

"Which is saying something," Scott remarked. "So, what do you say, little brother?"

"Hell, yes!" Alan said enthusaistically, embracing Scott in a hug.

He was truly home.

He could even ignore Virgil's cry of "language, Alan!"

* * *

><p>FINISHED!<p>

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers who made this story possible.


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